


how fast can we fall?

by Jackaboi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: All of the Swearing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anorexia, Bulimia, Connor Murphy Lives (Dear Evan Hansen), Cutting, Eating Disorders, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Larry Murphy's A+ Parenting, Like one chapter, Lots of vomiting, Mental Institutions, Mentions of Mental Hospitals, OOC, Rehab, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Tagging as I go, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Vomiting, Why Did I Write This?, like every other chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 30,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackaboi/pseuds/Jackaboi
Summary: When Mark, or rather Evan, which was his middle name, and what he preferred, because ‘Mark’ was his dad’s name and his dad, well, wasn’t the thing he wanted to think about constantly, with people calling him that, which is why he asked the teachers in an email the day before school, actually, his mom did, which, like, that’s so embarrassing, he can’t send an email to seven people and his mom has to do it for him, to call him Evan, and even then, Mr. Ryans kept forgetting, which meant his entire third period knew that his real name was Mark, and would probably call him that until he convinced them that it was Evan, except they would never talk to him, and he would never talk to them so they were just stuck thinking his name was Mark, no, well, it was, but that he actually liked being called that and if they ever did talk to him they’d get his name wrong, and he’d have a panic attack because his dad, and not correct them, and-Anyways.When Evan Hansen started senior year of high school, he never expected to fall so fast.*DISCONTINUED*
Relationships: (eventually), Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 204
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please read the tags! This is a story that will cover very dark topics.  
> Be careful and safe!  
> I kinda push myself on all of the characters? So uh. Sorry. I, like, dialed Evan's anxiety to 11 and threw in an eating disorder and cutting... Fun.  
> This is multi-chapter, and I'm finishing the next chapter before I post so, right now, I have the next chapter, but not the third. This will also alternate from Evan to Connor so have fun.

When Mark, or rather Evan, which was his middle name, and what he _preferred_ , because ‘Mark’ was his dad’s name and his dad, well, _wasn’t_ the thing he wanted to think about constantly, with people calling him that, which is why he asked the teachers in an email the day before school, actually, his _mom_ did, which, like, that’s so _embarrassing_ , he can’t send an email to _seven people_ and his _mom_ has to do it for him, to call him Evan, and even then, Mr. Ryans kept forgetting, which meant his _entire_ third period knew that his real name was Mark, and would probably call him that until he convinced them that it was _Evan_ , except they would never talk to him, and he would _never_ talk to them so they were just stuck thinking his name was Mark, no, well, it was, but that he actually liked being called that and if they ever _did_ talk to him they’d get his name wrong, and he’d have a panic attack because his _dad_ , and not correct them, and-

Anyways.

When Evan Hansen started senior year of high school, he never expected to fall so fast.

But, really, he should have? Because he’s _Evan Hansen_ , and _God_ , he can’t do anything right, let alone get through _one day_ of high school without wishing that he’d climbed a little higher before he let- no. _No._ He fell. He _fell_. Before he _fell_ out of that _dumb_ tree.

Maybe then, his spine would have broken, not his arm, or maybe his skull would have hit the ground and caved in and then he’d be _dead_.

It all started waking up way too early, trying to write his stupid therapy letters, and failing, then his mom coming in and reminding him he’s hideous and fat and eats too much- no. _No._ He’s hideous and skin and bone and doesn’t eat _enough_ , and that he should try to get someone to sign his cast- he can feel the future disappointment when he will inevitably come home with a blank cast, maybe Jared will sign it and his mom won’t be so sad, and he agrees, and she drives him to school.

Then he gets stopped by Alana, and he can’t even _talk_ to her, because she’s gone before he knows it and he feels heavy and wrong and and-

Then Jared makes that stupid joke, “How does it feel to be the first person to break your arm jerking off?” And Evan just _knows_ that everyone in the hallway heard, and then he pulls up that stupid old crush, on Zoe Murphy- he doesn’t even like her any more, that was _8 th grade_, Jesus -and then he’s laughing at him, “What are you an acorn?” and Evan is _not funny_.

Then _Connor_ Murphy is stalking by and Jared just _has_ to make that stupid comment about his hair and, _Jesus, he’s hot_ \- no. _No._ He’s _scary_.

Then Jared is leaving and Evan’s alone, relatively, they’re in a full, crowded hallway, with Connor, and he laughs nervously and tries to talk, but Connor’s mad, and pushes Evan, and Evan stands back up too fast, to avoid Zoe, who’s walking towards him, and kept his eyes on his feet as he fled to first period.

Then he knew he was dissociating, and Mr. Ryans was calling him ‘Mark’ and lunch and he didn’t eat because he stands in the mirror and so clearly sees he’s hideous, and then his mom is calling and it’s the end of the day and he has an appointment with Dr. Sherman, but his mom can’t take him, and he didn’t write the letter and then he had to rush and write one and it had to be the weirdest, stupidest one yet, and Connor _fucking_ Murphy read it and ran away with it and-

Evan was walking home. He was supposed to be at Dr. Sherman’s, but he really didn’t want to talk about his feelings or anything. He just wanted to sit at home and feel apathetic, and watch blood roll down his thighs and feel shitty about it and then cut more so he wouldn’t feel anything, and- But really, with thoughts like that, shouldn’t he be at Dr. Sherman’s?

But he didn’t want to be. So, he was walking home.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and, numbly, he pulled it out.

Jared.

He stuck it back in his pocket and hunched his shoulders, letting his feet scrape the ground as he moved.

Why would _Jared_ text him? Didn’t he have better things to do? After all, ha, they were only ‘family friends’.

_It didn’t sting._

_It didn’t sting._

_It didn’t sting._

Evan turned onto his street and fished his keys out of his pocket, toying with them as he got the door of his house.

Locking the door behind himself, he toed his shoes off, and walked into the kitchen. The twenty on the table made him blanch, though, and he turned away, the idea of water suddenly sickening. His weight (water weight) in mind, he heads up stairs to his, well, not really his, but the upstairs bathroom that no one uses because his mom has an on suite and the downstairs has a bathroom too and stands on the scale.

He frowns at the ‘lbs 122.8’ that pops up.

He turns to look in the mirror and frowns more. His skin is pale and sickly. He wants to tear it off. His cheeks are thinning, the fat on his face diminishing the less he eats. Too bad it wouldn’t leave his thighs and hips and arms and stomach and- fuck, _anywhere_ else.

He rubs at his face and locks the door. He opens up the mirror, because it’s cool like that, a cabinet-mirror, and lets his hand move to the top left, underneath the box of band-aids and feels for the cold metal. He pulls out the little razor. It’s from a pencil sharpener, but it still does the job. It has brown dried on the edge.

He turns and drops to the ground with his back to the counter. He stares at the blade.

Almost with out realizing it, he sheds his kakis, and rolls up the right leg of his boxers. Yesterday’s work is still scabbing, because he keeps rubbing his hands over them, and they re-open and sting and _it’s not enough_.

Maybe his arms would be enough?

But then he couldn’t wear short-sleeved shirts and his mom would know, and he’d hate himself and try again, and fail, ultimately, and he’d have to go to rehab and that cost _so much,_ and his mom would hate him and _God_ -

Instead he shreds his thighs and then his stomach when it threatens to move past the edge of his boxers, waist, hips, and he feels so _so_ numb.

He showers. Cleans up, and puts everything away, and heads to bed.

Fuck homework.

Who gives homework on the first day anyways? Physics and Statistics, apparently.

He wakes up to the sound of the front door slamming.

Sitting up, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and looks over to the clock. 1:37. His mom must be late for her night shift. He sighs and rolls over.

The angry slashes from earlier pinch and make it impossible to get comfortable. Evan sits up and walks downstairs. He goes and stands in the kitchen, his stomach churning.

He wants to eat. But he hates sticking his finger down his throat to throw up.

So.

Preferable to just not.

He debates this, finally giving in and pulling out the cheerios and milk, making a small bowl. _Small._ Two. Three. Four, five, six- they’re gone. And he feels disgusting.

He gags on nothing and rushes to the bathroom. He can taste it a second time as it comes back up.

Before he’s done, the doorbell rings. Again. Again, and again and again and again again again again again again-

He flushes and stands, wiping his mouth and shooting a glance at the clock. 2:09. Who could it be? Not his mom, if she forgot her keys, she wouldn’t try and wake him up, just go around back, maybe Jared?

-againagainagainagainagainagain-

He fumbles with the lock and opens the door.

He stares.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

And stares.

“Evan was it?”

Stares.

“Look, please, I wouldn’t be here, but I really need help, and-“

“Yeah, come in.”

It’s Zoe _Fucking_ Murphy, supporting Connor around the waist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor Murphy already had his plan before the first day of school. Hell, it wasn’t supposed to be on the first day of school, except his mother kept smiling at him and he’d yell and throw things and punch his wall and Zoe would yell back and she sounded so sad and broken, and he couldn’t, except, maybe, it made him think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short and based off my own experience so i don't know how good it is?? also connor's pov  
> TW: Suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, hospital (mentions), cutting  
> be careful and safe :)

Connor Murphy already had his plan before the first day of school. Hell, it wasn’t _supposed_ to be on the first day of school, except his mother kept smiling at him and he’d yell and throw things and punch his wall and Zoe would yell back and she sounded so sad and broken, and he _couldn’t_ , except, maybe, it made him _think_.

Sometimes.

That was worse than the original urge.

To stand on the train tracks. Lay down in the river. Jump off a building. Swallow three bottles of pills.

Instead, he’d just cut. And grin dryly when Zoe freaked out over the blood and called him a psychopath, a _monster_ , quit prolonging it and just _fucking kill yourself_.

Ouch.

That was the day before.

He had his instructions.

So, he took the pills out of the cabinet and left his phone at home. He went to school and didn’t go home.

But not before he shoved a kid, signed his cast, and stole his suicide note.

Well, it sounded like a suicide note.

_Dear Evan Hansen:_

_It turns out, this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because… why would it be?_

_I know. Because there’s Zoe. And all my hope is pinned on Zoe. Who I don’t even know, and doesn’t know me. But maybe if I did. Maybe if I could just talk to her, then maybe… maybe nothing would be different at all._

_I wish that everything was different. I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, face it: Would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,_

_Me._

…Addressed to himself.

…And _hella_ creepy. ‘Because there’s Zoe.’? That was _his sister_. But he kind of understood. Even if it was creepy. Maybe he’d be ok if she hadn’t… But he wouldn’t blame it on her. It was his fault. He was broken.

A mess.

Everything was his fault. It always was.

Fuck, her being a mess was probably his fault.

So, he downed the pills. One bottle at a time. Three bottles. Roughly 80 pills. He hadn’t counted. But that amount should kill him right?

He just didn’t expect Zoe to fucking _find_ him.

He keeps vomiting, and he’s sobbing his eyes out, which he never does. His emotions always come out in threats and violence and being really loud. He hasn’t cried in a long time.

He knows he’s delirious, because he sees someone crouch over him and can see them saying his name. “Mom?”

“Fuck! Connor! Shit, I’m going, fuck, I _have_ to get you somewhere-“ the voice fades out again, but by the swearing, not Cynthia.

“Zoe? Zo, I’m sorry, I’m so _fucking sorry_ \- Just leave me- I- Let me die- please, please, I want to go, I want to go back! I want to go back! I want to die, fuck, Zo, I’m sorry-“

He’s crying and hates himself for it, but he can’t stop. It’s almost like being high, all floaty and stuff, but sad, not angry.

“Leave me alone Zoe, fucking _go away, go away!_ Fuck you! Leave me alone!“

He hears her talking but can’t pick out the words. “No! Fuck off! Leave me, and I’ll die and everything will be ok, yeah…?”

“Yeah, yeah it is, everything’s going to be ok, Con, I promise, I fucking _promise_.”

Everything goes black.

He’s not sure, but he thinks that he sees purple shag carpet and popcorn ceiling for a second, the sound of yelling and sirens loud in his ears, then it’s gone.

When he next opens his eyes, it’s to tell someone to turn the fucking beeping off. But when he sees the monitor his throat freezes and then he’s screaming and thrashing, his body feels wrong, _he feels wrong_ -

And someone runs in and then more people are there, and then it’s black again.

He opens his eyes in that _damn garage_.

Everything is carefully padded and protected. He sits up too fast and clutches his head, breathing hard, _he can’t be here, he can’t he can’t not again_ -

“Hey sweetie.”

It’s his mom. He nearly blacks out again. Instead, he vomits.

When he’s done, he answers dryly, “Hey, Mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jhagja i kinda struggled writing this? I want to get past the hospital, but like, it needs to happen?  
> comment! i really like those ;p


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit- Shit.
> 
> “Geez, Hansen, calm down.”
> 
> Zoe fucking Murphy.
> 
> “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sadfkjsdfh i am ever un-confident in my writing but here :)  
> I know it's only the third chpter but i literally have no idea anymore.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit- _Shit_.

“Geez, Hansen, calm down.”

 _Zoe_ fucking _Murphy_.

“Shit.”

Her laugh is simple and high.

Until it turns into sobs.

They’re sitting in the living room, Connor laying side-ways on the couch, Zoe using the landline to call an ambulance. Her phone had died around 11:30, but she hadn’t wanted to go back, and Connor, apparently, never even took his phone to school.

“Are- Are you? OK?”

“I just-“ She hiccupped, “-think it’s funny that my brother tried to commit suicide and you’re the one having a panic attack!”

The sirens were loud now, and Evan ran to the front door, trying to shove everything down, ignore the fact that _Zoe fucking Murphy_ had noticed, and recognized, a panic attack, _his panic attack,_ and commented on it. Fuck, he hadn’t responded, so now he must seem like an asshole, oh _God_ , but it didn’t matter because now he couldn’t see anything other than red and blue lights and paramedics and Zoe squeezing his hand, “ _Are you going to come? We have room in the ambulance- but! You can say no…”_ Like she was just… Asking for a red pen, instead of a black one, and he was saying no, no way in _hell_ was he going on an ambulance again, well, he though that last bit, but did it really matter? Because seconds later it was 3:56 and they were gone and he was alone and awake and could hardly breathe and then it was morning, and his mom was waking him up- oh _God_ -and asking what happened and and he was stammering his way through it and she was saying she’d check on him, _no no no no don’t do that_ , but what could he do, and he didn’t eat and the he was at school and it felt too _fast_.

 _Too fast too fast too fast too fast too fast_ _too fasttoofasttoofasttoofasttoofasttoofast-_

“Dude! Hey, don’t ignore me, what the hell?”

Evan stopped. A hand grabbed his shoulder too tight and spun him around. Jared.

“Why didn’t you text me back yesterday? You were spacing out all day and then I tried to text you and- You know what? I don’t care. Ditch me if you want.” There was bitterness in his words. Evan felt horrible as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

“I- Sorry, I must’ve- must have had it on s-silent or, um, something.”

**_Jared:_ **

**_(yesterday) 3:46 PM_ **

_Dude_

_u have 2 come hang_

_my moms just pulled the new xbox out of nowhere_

_evan_

_acorn_

_evan_

_evaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan?_

_fine_

_f u_

**_(yesterday) 9:12 PM_ **

_Hey what’s the stats hw?_

_hey acorn_

_god tell me ur not asleep_

_it’s too early to sleep_

_i’m w i r e d_

_its prob all the mnt dew i drank lol_

**_12:05 AM_ **

_Acorn_

_acorn_

_acorn_

_acorn_

_acorn_

_acorn_

_fuck you_

_r u ignoring me?_

_fuck you_

**_6:37 AM_ **

_Mom wants to kno ifu want a ride_

_asshole_

_dick_

_shithead_

_fine then_

_no ride_

_gl being late for school_

Evan looked up at Jared. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- to ignore you? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah whatever, fuck you.”

Evan hunches his shoulders and fiddles with the hem of this shirt. Trying, desperately, not to think about what exactly he’d been doing to not notice Jared.

The bell rang.

Evan went to class.

Handed his lunch money to a freshman who was fidgeting and looking wistfully at their friends’ lunch.

Began to walk home.

“Hey, Hansen, wait!”

Evan knew that he wasn’t the best at processing things, but still, he should have kept the panic attack in check when he heard Zoe Murphy callout to him.

_Blood dripping onto the linoleum tile-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_“Can I borrow your phone?”-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_“Are you going to come?”-_

_Alone-_

“Gotcha!” Zoe’s hand catches his elbow. Her fingers fit all the way around his arm. “Geez, do you eat?” She laughs, tugging him around.

He smiles nervously and looks down.

 _Her fingers fit all the way around his arm_.

“So, uh, I wanted to thank you? For last night?”

“Oh- It was- No- No problem?”

“No! I mean it! Anyone else would have handed me a cell phone and have me call 911 on the porch while Connor was dying in my arms!” Evan flinches.

“Yeah…” He keeps his gaze firmly on the ground.

“Anyways, my mother thought you’d want to know: Connor’s in a rehab center, he’ll probably be there for a week? And she wants you to come over to dinner sometime.” Here, Zoe rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t take her up on that, the lasagna she wants to make is vegan and gluten free and just about the most disgusting thing on Earth.”

Evan glanced up. She was smiling at him. He sent one back.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“OK, I’ll let you… Did he sign your cast?”

“Oh- Um. I guess?” He tilted his arm so he could see the ‘CONNOR’ across his entire cast. He’d been so out of it yesterday, he’d hardly noticed.

“I- I’ll sign it?”

“OK.” He pulled out his sharpie, still in his bag and handed it to her. In a similar fashion to Connor, she took him arm- he didn’t whimper this time -and, smaller, wrote ‘Zoe Murphy’ with a cute heart at the end. “Uh. Thanks?”

She squeezed his good arm.

_Her fingers go all the way around his arm-_

“Do- Do you want a ride?”

“No! I’m good- uh, no. But thanks.” He lets the corners of his mouth tilt up weakly, and angles his body away. “I’ll- I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah! See you later!”

She’s gone.

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

He hurries home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jhgfdsdg thanks for reading  
> comment? i like those lol ;p


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor hates rehab.  
> He hates everything.  
> He skulks in a corner and does each thing with the least effort possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again! based off my own experience- except i'm clingy so i kinda liked rehab and i really miss the people, but it's connor so i tweaked it -and a little shorter than the evan chapters, but i'll probably have another chapter out within 48 hours so :)  
> tw: for scars but if you're reading, that's probably nothing compared to the other chapters, but I don't control you or triggers so be careful anyways! remember what the tags are.  
> have fun and be safe

Connor hates rehab.

He hates group.

He hates check ins.

He hates the Doctor.

He hates the Nurses.

He hates the Techs.

He hates his roommate.

He hates the other kids.

He hates the music.

He hates the art.

He hates everything.

He skulks in a corner and does each thing with the least effort possible.

They make him wear short sleeves and his arms feel so exposed. They didn’t do that at the other ones. When his mom and Zoe visit, Cynthia pales and openly stares, and Zoe pretends that the scars don’t exist.

Zoe asks him about Evan Hansen.

“Who?”

“That kid you pushed? And then signed his cast?”

“Oh.”

He has the note in his back pocket. It’s well-worn at this point.

“Do you know him? He’s the one I lended a phone from.”

“I dunno. School. I might have a couple classes with him.”

“Mom invited him to dinner.”

“Did she?”

“Is he OK?”

“How would _I_ know?” _Why did she care?_

“I don’t know. He’s just skinny.”

“People are skinny, Zoe.” Cynthia cut in, frowning slightly.

“My fingers fit around his arm. Like, his upper arm, not his wrist. And he just kinda seems malnourished. It doesn’t matter. If you think it’s fine, it’s probably fine.”

Connor sighed and picked at a scab. _God_ , this was hell on Earth.

“They’re going to release you on Thursday, provided you keep taking meds and go to weekly counseling sessions.”

“OK, mom.”

They left.

Connor went and sulked in his room.

The week passed like this. Boring and horrible. Thursday was a relief, even if the other teens he didn’t care about tried to hug him goodbye.

The drive home took an hour and a half, and he felt guilty- _why?_ -because Zoe and Cynthia had come up every night since last Tuesday. _What about Larry?_

_Shut up._

They didn’t make him go to school on Friday, thank _god_ , but said that when Monday rolls around he would have to. That makes him swallow.

Things changed at home:

Anything sharp, _anything_ , is locked up, along with all the pills.

The bathroom lock has been replaced with something horribly pick-able, and his door, his whole _fucking door_ , is gone.

He doesn’t have any sweat shirts, or long-sleeved shirts. They’re just missing.

The car keys are to be handed in to Cynthia or Larry by 10 PM and will be in the bowl in the morning.

The windows all have hideous padlocks on them.

It all makes him feel trapped and wrong. It took them 17 years to figure out he’s a mess. Broken. And even then, it already had gotten to the point they needed to lock everything away.

God.

Family dinner is suddenly a thing again, and Larry- _fucking Larry_ -is the one that brings up Hansen this time.

“So, who’s this boy you say should come over, Cynthia?”

“Oh! Zoe?”

“His name’s Evan. Evan Hansen. He and Connor share some classes. He’s whose house I end up at with Connor last Tuesday.”

“Connor? What do you think of this?”

“I don’t know, does it matter?”

“ _Connor_.”

“He seems nice. Jittery… Anxious.”

“Connor signed his cast.” Zoe volunteered.

“Did you?”

“Oh, um, I guess I did.”

“After you pushed him in the hallway. Is that right.”

Connor’s stomach twists. He stands sharply, his gaze flicking to the stairs. “Fuck you!”

As he darts toward them, a chorus of, “Fuck you!”, and “Language!” following him, his mother grabs him. He rips out of her grasp but stops.

“Breathe, Connor. Remember?”

His eyes sting.

He storms upstairs and into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door.

He can’t breathe.

He doesn’t want to remember.

He hates rehab.

He can’t breathe.

He’s crying. Someone knocks. He doesn’t answer. He’s on the floor, in a ball, tugging at his hair so sharply it hurts. The door knob rattles then the door opens.

“Go away!”

“Hey, breathe, breathe.” Hands tug his away from his head and stay on his wrists. “Remember, like at the hospital?”

He takes a shaky breath in and the black dots fade.

_He doesn’t want to remember._

_He hates rehab._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sfjdsfk did that happen to anyone else? losing your door and sharp objects and stuff?? just me and my helicopter parents?? huh  
> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Comment, i really really like those, it's why i write this so fast lol  
> be safe!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday. Evan’s been at school a week. Zoe said Connor’s coming back today. Evan has only eaten saltines in the past 48 hours. He weighs 118.09 lbs. He hasn’t cut in… three and a half hours.
> 
> He forces himself to breathe in, exhale.
> 
> Smile.
> 
> Then enter the school building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fsdabfjk another short chapter. I'm exited for 6 though, so it kinda just happened.
> 
> Also, I've had good for you on repeat and I- jahs it's so good. normally i stick to sincerely me and only us but god it's amazing
> 
> Be careful and safe!  
> Enjoy!

Monday. Evan’s been at school a week. Zoe said Connor’s coming back today. Evan has only eaten saltines in the past 48 hours. He weighs 118.9 lbs. He hasn’t cut in… three and a half hours.

He forces himself to breathe in, exhale.

Smile.

Then enter the school building.

The noises instantly stab at his brain. Screaming, yelling, shouting, calling, talking- it’s almost enough to make him bolt. He presses the heels of his palms against his thighs, a new tactic, the pain snapping him back to reality, and walks to his locker.

His hands don’t shake as he puts in his combination, and for that he’s thankful.

“Hey! Evan!”

He glances up, then shifts. It’s Alana Beck?

“Hey, so I was talking to Zoe about Connor and she said you helped save him!”

The pressure on his thighs redoubles as his brain short circuits. “Wh- What? What are you- you talking about?”

“Zoe brought him over to your house, right?”

“Yeah, I guess?”

“Right! So! The school was informed, and they’re doing an assembly on suicide, and self-harm, and stuff, and I’m going to start a club, like, where people can go and be themselves? And I want you to help!”

“What? Why?”

“Weren’t you listening? You helped save Connor, you've seen it firsthand!”

“N-No? I just- I just called- I just gave Zoe a phone to call 911, that’s all?”

“That’s all someone needs! I’ll see you after school? In the office. That’s when I’m talking the Vice Principal!”

“Wait, no-“

“See you then!”

The bell rings. She’s gone.

He feel blood running down his thigh. He looks down and rubs on the spot. Nothing happens. It isn’t real. His next breath is shaky.

“Connor, please, go to class.”

“Oh, fuck off, I’m at school aren’t I?”

“You need to _go to class_. You’ll go back to rehab, remember? If you can’t deal with-“

“Fuck you!”

Evan looks up as Connor Murphy rages past, his knuckles white around the strap of his messenger bag.

“Fuck you!” He glances back at where Zoe is following him.

She walks past him like he doesn’t exist-

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

She’s gone. He hurries to class.

After school, and anxiously skirting the Murphy’s, Evan shuffles to the Office.

“Oh, good you came!” Alana is smiling at him.

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” She drags him off into a conference room. He spaces out while she talks, smiling and nodding and adding in little, “People should never feel left out,”s when it’s right. The Vice Principal, Mrs. Lee is nodding, and half-listening.

Evan can so clearly see the club proposal sheet that’s already signed in front of her, so no matter what they do, or say, it’ll pass. She does however, keep looking at him. He digs his fingers into his thighs. He doesn’t want to be here.

When they leave, Evan pretends his hands aren’t shaking.

“Hey, ‘Lana!” Evan looks up to see, _fuck_ , Zoe Murphy, swing her arm around Alana’s shoulder and swoop in to kiss her cheek. Involuntarily, he blushes for them and averts his gaze. “How’d it go?”

“Great! I think we did it! Evan did well.”

He blinks and glances back long enough to see Zoe smile at him.

“Evan, do you want a ride? Or maybe you could come to dinner, get it over with?” She laughs, “And before you say no, you only have to come to dinner if you want to, and Con and I are already taking ‘Lana home, so it’d be no big deal!”

They’re walking towards a blue 1966 Volkswagen Beetle that must have expensive, has Connor leaning against it, picking at his fingers, and that definitely doesn’t look big enough for four people.

“Um…”

“Come on, Evan!”

“Oh- Ok… Fine.”

“Cool!” Zoe’s smiling at him again. “Do you mind sitting in the back?”

“N-No- Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and feels stupid.

She opens up the door, pulls the seat back, and stands back, bowing a little bit. He waits for a second then gets in. As he gets in after him, Evan hears Connor say, “I do- I’m six foot one.”

“Good for you, Con, we can’t all be giants. Say hi to Evan.”

Evan can _feel_ Connor roll his eyes. “Hi, Evan.”

“Wow, Connor, that was great.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m amazing, fuck off.”

“Language!” Alana gasps, twisting in her seat.

“Whatever. Sorry, ‘Lana.”

Evan fiddles, deciding it’s too late to say ‘hi’ back and presses into his thighs.

Zoe and Alana talk for a bit and the backseat is very awkward.

Finally, Connor mumbles. “Zo’s right, you are skinny.”

“What?”

“You’re a twig.”

He blushes. He doesn’t want to be here.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

“Yeah, I guess so.”

They drop Alana off- another kiss, another blush -and Connor practically leaps into the front seat.

 _It’s me, fuck, I made him uncomfortable_ \- It’s always him what is he thinking? He thinks he hears Zoe ask him his address and, what should he say? His house is tiny and embarrassing, but they’ve already seen it, but what about dinner? It’s _fine,_ he didn’t want to go anyway, because he likes the Murphy’s and he’d embarrass himself, like always, and, well, obviously, he wouldn’t- they _don’t_ want him there, it’s _so_ obvious he’s going to die, and God, can he do anything right? He’s making Zoe _wait_ , fuck, _fuck, fuck_ does he even _know_ his address? Or does no one like him enough for him to know it so he can ask them to come over and tell them his address and then Zoe’s saying how she thinks she remembers it, and did Connor ask if he was ok? Of course, he’s OK? Why wouldn’t he be? He’s home- how did he get here? -And instantly rushes to the bathroom to throw up, he feels sick and heavy and wrong and hideous and fat and stupid and worthless and he doesn’t want to be here anymore, and he wants to die- fuck. _Fuck._ He’s not supposed to think like that, is he? He weighs himself. 117.2 lbs. Not much to earlier. 118.9 lbs. God- can he do _anything right?_ Apparently not.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

Breathe.

He is OK.

Smile.

Breath. He is OK.

_Dear Evan Hansen, today’s a good day and here’s why:_

_You went home with the Murphy’s and helped Alana Beck start her club!_

_~~You only weigh 117.2 -~~ _

_Maybe you made friends? ~~Probably not.~~_

_Sincerely,_

_Me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) sorry not sorry
> 
> Comment i like those they're cool


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe.  
> Maybe he will get better?  
> Maybe surviving three bottles of pills was a wakeup call.  
> To fix his relationship with Zoe. Come clean. Befriend Evan Hansen.  
> Maybe he’ll be OK?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i just want to say, because i see the fault in it, connor's getting "better", because that's what happened to me? and then i relapsed, and everything got bad again, soooooooooo ;) but for right now, everything /seems/ ok, so here's a teensy bit of fluff for yall  
> be careful and safe!  
> enjoy

“Evan’s coming to dinner tonight, right, Mom?”

Zoe’s question makes Connor look up from his soggy cereal.

“Yes. I texted his mother, and they’re going to come over at 5:30, isn’t that nice!”

“Yeah! Wonderful!”

“ _Wonderful_.” Connor mumbles, stirring the goop, then standing up to throw it away.

“Connor! Be nice!”

“Sorry, Cynthia.” He doesn’t look at her.

“Coming, Connor? If you’re not ready-“

“You’ll leave without me, I know, Zoe, fuck-“

“Connor!”

“Sorry.”

Connor grabs his jacket hanging by the door, grateful for the excuse to cover his arms, and sticks his feet in his boots.

Zoe brushes past him to open the door, her converse already on.

He follows her out to the Beetle and gets in, his messenger bag on his lap.

“Connor?” His sister sits in the driver’s seat. “Connor.” He ignores her. “Connor!” She starts the car and pulls out of the driveway. “Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Con-“

“ _What_!” He twists, staring her down.

She doesn’t look at him. “Why don’t you like Evan?”

“I don’t _not_ like him.” Turning back to his window, he has a brief flash of the blonde hair and green eyes and defined cheekbones and skinny arms and presumably sweaty hands he keeps wiping on his thighs.

“You were kinda rude the other day, when we took him home?”

“I’m ‘kinda rude’, Zo, most of the time to you, I thought you’d have noticed by now.”

“Yeah, but… He’s sweet, and Alana says he shows signs of an anxiety disorder, and maybe you shouldn’t, y’know be so-“

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Connor.”

“Fuck off, Zoe.”

“Language.” The teasing tone makes his insides boil. _She’s making fun of you, she hates you, she’s laughing at you-_

“ _Shut up._ “

“What? Can’t stand a joke, Con-man?” She hasn’t used that nickname since 8th grade. _She hates you-_

_She’s laughing at you-_

_She hates you-_

_She hates you-_

_She hates you-_

_She hates you-_

“ _SHUT UP!”_ He slams a fist on the center console and then covers his ears, and hunkers down in his seat.

Zoe shuts up.

He takes a shaky breath in and folds his arms across his chest.

They pull up to the school.

Find Connor’s Senior parking space that only Zoe uses.

Stop the car.

“Are- Are you OK?”

He snaps out of his trance and opens the door, getting out.

“Fine.”

“Are you, y’know, sure?”

“I’m. _Fine._ ”

He goes inside, leaving Zoe alone.

The hallways are loud. He wants to yell at everyone, but bites his lip, and doesn’t.

He does pass Evan Hansen and fucking Kleinman, though.

He almost does yell then, because Kleinman says, “How was vacation, Connor, you were gone a week!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Evan shrink and hide behind his locker door.

“Oh, it was lovely, all you have to do is fail at offing yourself! Give it a try.”

Kleinman’s face pales and he starts to stammer. “I- I didn’t-“

“Fuck off.”

Connor goes to first period. Language Arts. Second period. Physics. Third period. Visual Arts. Fourth. AP Statistics- he ignores Evan the entire time. Lunch. Fifth. Creative Writing- another 35 minutes of ignoring Evan. Sixth. AP US Government. Seventh. French 3. Ignore Evan.

He sighs in relief when Mr. Rouse tells them to pack up. Then stops. They have 45 more minutes until 3:10, when school gets out. He begins to tell them they have an assembly and Connor nearly bolts. He hates assemblies.

The loud speaker comes on and instructs the freshmen to come to the gym.

Ten minutes.

God.

By the time the Seniors are called, Connor’s wrists have turned pink from scratching and picking.

He feels like he’s going to die- and he took three bottles of pills last week and felt less sick. That’s a lie. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel that sick again, but, by God, it’s a close call.

They shuffle into the auditorium and to the bleachers. Connor finds a wall seat and presses into it.

Then.

Then Evan Hansen sits next to him, looking nearly as nauseous as he felt.

Evan’s eyes flick over to him for a moment, before the heels of his hands are digging into his thighs again.

Connor frowns for a second. Then mimics the action on his arms.

It stings.

Not as much as it would, if he still had anything sharp, but it stings.

_Huh._

“The reason we are having this assembly is because one of our own, one of our peers, has tried to commit suicide.”

“ _Fuck_ , straight to the point.” Connor whispers, glancing at Evan. A smile cuts onto his face for a second, then it’s gone. Connor counts that as a win.

“To withhold the privacy of the student, we’re not release names, but please keep that in mind when interacting with your peers.

“This assembly’s purpose is to remind you that you are not alone. We have school counselors, and any number of the teachers are willing to talk. If you feel suicidal, or are self-harming, please know that you have people to talk to, even if anonymous.

“Alana Beck and one of her friends-“

Beside him, Evan mutters, “’Acquaintance.’”

“-has started a club that will allow students to make friends and express their feelings to others without being judged. We encourage you to join. It will be held in room 246 every week on Thursdays, starting tomorrow.

“We also would like to-“

The Principal continues droning on, but Connor’s attention has faded. A glance behind him showed off Kleinman staring at the back of his head. _You’re being watched, being judged-_

_He knows what you did, he knows, he’ll tell everyone, and then your life is over for real, you’ll be done-for, everyone will know-_

_Everyone knows-_

_Everyone knows-_

“Co- Connor? I, um. The bell? It, the, um, we’re dismissed? The bell rang.”

Connor blinks and sees Evan’s hand on his arm. He looks up and Evan flinches, pulling his hand away. “Sorry- I just didn’t want you to stay sitting while everyone was, like, um, getting up to leave. Do you- Want to- uh, go back to French? And get your stuff?”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Hansen.”

They walk side by side, Connor staring at his feet, with a feeling Evan’s doing the same.

“Are- You’re- You and your mom are coming to dinner, right?”

“Oh, um. My… Mom. My mom can’t make it. But- Uh, she says she’s sorry, she had to pick up a shift at the hospital, otherwise she’d go, but um. I can go if you- still. Want. Me to. Uh. Yeah…”

“Yeah, your mom doesn’t need to come. Another time.” Connor holds the door open for Evan. They get their things and then walk back out together.

Evan fidgets.

Zoe walks up.

“Hey, Hansen! Coming to dinner?”

“Yeah, but his mom can’t make it. Covering a shift at the… hospital, right?” Connor looks down at Evan.

He shifts. “Right.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Maybe… You could just come home with us then?”

“Uh. Oh- OK.”

“Two trips in the Beetle in one week! Such fun.” Connor’s tone is dry. “At least you’re not six foot two.”

“I- I thought you were six foot one?” Evan’s rubbing his thighs again.

“Yeah, me too, and done growing, but apparently, my mom was looking over the hospital records and it said I was six foot two and she _had_ to check and. Well. Six foot two.”

“ _Very_ interesting, Connor, nice to know you’re an even taller giant.”

He snorted. “Yeah, whatever, you’re five ten and _definitely_ still growing.”

“Damn Murphy genes. Good thing I’m a lesbian.”

Connor laughs. His chest is. Warm? It feels nice and full and- Happy. Is he happy?

“Yeah, me too.”

“You’re not a girl?”

“Shut up, I am what I want.”

“OK, pronouns?”

“God, Zo, it was a joke!”

She cackles and dodges the light shove he sends in her direction. “I’m _never_ letting that go!”

“Zoe!” His face is burning.

“Yes, Connie?”

“I’m going to paint your room orange.”

“I can’t see orange.” She’s still laughing.

“Exactly.”

She pauses, then smacks his arm. “Fuck you.”

It’s his turn to laugh and duck.

They get in the Beetle, Connor feeling lighter than he has in years. He glances back at Evan; whose face is lightly pink and digging his fingers into his thighs.

The mood drops.

Shit.

They left him out.

Gently, he reaches back and pulls one of Evan’s hands away from his thigh.

“Don’t.” He hopes his voice is soft.

Evan’s eyes are wide and watery and green.

“S-sorry.”

“It’s your leg.”

“Sorry- I know. Um. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Sorry. Fuck. Sor- um.”

Zoe laughs.

Evan smiles weakly. Connor pushes his hand onto the seat and gives him a look. Then turns back around.

“Did Evan Hansen, _Evan_ \- top of every class, wears polos every day, not a hair out of place - _Hansen,_ just say, ‘fuck’?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

Zoe’s laughter rings.

Connor smiles to himself.

Maybe.

Maybe he will get better?

Maybe surviving three bottles of pills was a wakeup call.

To fix his relationship with Zoe. Come clean. Befriend Evan Hansen.

Maybe he’ll be OK?

_~~Who are you kidding, you’re a fucking mess, you’ll never be OK, get your head our of your ass and just get it over with-~~ _

_~~Everyone will be better off if you try again and succeed-~~ _

_~~Just do it-~~ _

“We’re here! Come on, Connor, head out of the clouds.”

He blinks and looks up at Zoe. He’s trapping Evan in the backseat.

Breathe.

He smiles.

“’Kay, tall-ass.”

Zoe gasps and puts a hand on her chest. “I’m so offended, Mr. Six-Foot-Two! Now come on, Hansen’s in the back.”

He gets up and pulls the seat back. Evan gives him a quizzical look before resuming the floor-watch.

They go inside.

Everything’s OK.

He’ll be OK.

Everything is OK.

Maybe not Evan, but they can work on that.

The thought makes him smile.

That makes Cynthia smile.

Everything, right now, is OK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 so with everything I've done to evan (and am going to do to connor lol) i decided zoe should be color blind, Tritanopia, which is the type i have :) basicly it's where you can't see yellow, and blue is like cyan. It's also known as blue-yellow color blindness
> 
> comment plz i like those


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan thinks he might be dreaming.
> 
> He’s like 90% sure he’s dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's that nice dinner cynthia wanted uwu ;)
> 
> be careful, safe, and have fun!

Evan thinks he might be dreaming.

He’s like 90% sure he’s dreaming.

He’d be more sure if he could press his hand into his thighs, but Connor keeps glaring at him if he tries.

Connor Murphy.

_Connor Murphy_.

And who would guess where they were? On the floor of Zoe Murphy- _Zoe Murphy!_ –‘s bedroom floor, playing Uno, while Zoe does homework and texts someone Connor keeps teasing her about.

“Evan? Green five.”

Evan glances up, then down at his cards, God, he hopes he’s not getting them sweaty, and plays.

“Yellow five, wrong move, good sir- Uno!” Connor plays a yellow two and smirks.

“He’s got a wild, you’re screwed, Hansen.” Zoe calls from the bed.

“Zoe! That’s cheating!” Connor twists to stick his tongue out at her.

Evan snorts and plays his yellow one and watches as Connor slaps down a wild. “I win!”

“What is that? Four in a row?”

“Five.” Connor gloats, leaning back against the bed.

Evan smiles and sticks his cards on top of the pile, pulling it closer to him so he can shuffle it.

“Dinner!” Mrs. Murphy- Cynthia -calls up the stairs.

Evan watches as Connor’s face falls, then shuts off. Apathetic. Evan’s stomach churns. He digs his fingers into his thighs.

“Stop. You’re going to get bruises.” It’s Zoe this time, who tugs a hand away.

He blinks at her. Smiles- or tries too -and makes himself be normal.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

He takes a breath and follows the Murphys down the stairs.

Dinner is, like Zoe said, lasagna that’s vegan and gluten free and honestly looks nothing like lasagna.

“Looks great, Mrs. Mu- Cynthia.”

“Thanks, dear!” She smiles and squeezes his shoulder.

They sit down.

Serve the food.

Mr. Murphy comes in late and sits at the head of the table, wrinkling his nose ever so slightly at what’s on his plate.

Then he clears his throat and opens his mouth. Evan pretends he doesn’t notice how Connor and Zoe, respectively, flinch.

“So! Evan, right?”

“Um.. Yeah. Yes, that’s right. Evan- Evan Hansen.” _Fuck_. He shuts up and picks at his food.

“What do you like to do?”

“I- um.” He’s not sure. Count calories? Cut open his thighs? Watch his weight tick down, but never far enough? “Uh, I write. And I like being outside.”

“That’s nice. Connor takes creative writing, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I have it with Evan.”

“Do you? That’s nice.”

“What does your mother do?”

“She’s a Nurse’s Aide, but she’s taking classes to be a- um. A lawyer? Something legal.” He hunches and picks at his food a bit more fervently.

“That’s cool! That’s she’s pursuing something she wants.”

“Yeah…” _Except, it’s taking about seven years, plus finding a new job and student debt, so I’m basically an orphan._

“How old are you?”

“I’m seventeen. My birthday’s in July.”

“January.” Evan glances at Connor, trying at a smile.

“How’s the food?”

Evan stops picking for a moment before saying. “It’s great, Cynthia.” He worries on his lip. He hasn’t eaten any of his food. He takes a bite. And swallows. And hates himself.

The conversation tilts away from him as he forces down more food.

He barely hears what Mr. Murphy says- something about Connor and college, but whatever it is, Connor’s suddenly talking sharper, meaner.

Evan just stares at his food.

Connor storms away, and Evan tries a glance at Zoe for direction.

She’s crying.

His heart stops.

Is he breathing?

Does he _want_ to breathe?

Not really.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

He can’t see straight. Someone’s hand is on his arm and he’s staring at his hands- they’re bloody.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

He wipes them on his jeans, but it doesn’t come off. He’s handed a glass of water.

_Cheerios and milk-_

He thinks maybe he should take a Xanax. Maybe he should take the whole bottle.

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

He thinks Zoe’s kneeling in front of him. Her eyelashes are still wet.

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

Cynthia’s asking if she should call his mother. He shakes his head, but it’s not at her.

_Red and blue lights-_

A hand wraps around his wrist.

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

What’s wrong with him?

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

“What’s wrong with you?”

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

What’s wrong with you?

_What’s wrong with you-_

The hand around his wrist is tugging him away, and he lets it, his brain isn’t working anyways, he couldn’t have said no if he wanted to- they’re outside or in the Beetle- driving, or home. No, not home, his house, there’s a difference. He doesn’t have a home, he doesn’t belong, then, maybe, someone’s asking for the key, does he give it to them? He pulls away, moving straight to the bathroom, someone knocking on the door as the nice dinner he ate comes back up. He flushes and leans back on the wall. The knocking is still there. He stands and opens the door, looking over the shoulder of someone his brain refuses to recognize, they grab his arms and say something he doesn’t hear, and to that he shrugs and pushes past them to sit on the stairs and hold his head and want to disappear- _“Are you going to be OK? Should I stay?”_ -he thinks he says, _“I usually fall asleep. You can go._ ” but he doesn’t want them to, because the first thing he’ll do is go upstairs and ruin his body, but, well, does he care? Not really, and they go and he’s alone-

_alonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealone_

-upstairs, under the band-aids-

_alonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealonealone_

-it’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

Never.

And so he’s alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry not sorry
> 
> comment????? tell me you hate me at least


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor really wishes he had a door to slam. Not even that, just close, to block out everything downstairs.  
> The loud, heaving sobs, a chair crashing back, yelling, yelling, yelling-  
> A door slams.  
> Quiet.  
> Connor is going insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah connor torture  
> I'm not an expert so I don't know what counts as abuse? but uh, TW: rough grabbing, a slap, violation of privacy, ummmmmmmmmmm, violation of self?? changing aspects of someone without their permission, maybe abuse. self-hate, like a lot of it, self harm just. yeah

Connor _really_ wishes he had a door to slam. Not even that, just close, to block out everything downstairs.

The loud, heaving sobs, a chair crashing back, yelling, yelling, _yelling-_

A door slams.

Quiet.

Connor is going insane.

“What the fuck!” Larry is upstairs, standing in his doorway.

 _God,_ he misses his door.

“What.” He’s sitting on his desk, because he’s cool, and has his big clunky Bluetooth head phones around his, neck, the music up so loud they don’t need to be over his ears. He pauses it.

It’s some song by Twenty One Pilots he’s not sure he likes. It loud, so who cares?

“That boy just had some sort of- of- I don’t know! A break down! I thought he was _normal_ \- And where were you? Up here. _Sulking_.” 

He worries on his bottom lips and looks away. “ _So_? He’s not my problem.”

“He saved your life.”

“No! He didn’t! Zoe did! Maybe she shouldn’t have. I never asked her to do that. I didn’t want that!” He throws down his phone and stands to face his dad. At some point, Larry was taller than him, but over the years, and as Connor got taller, the roles reversed. It felt nice to look down on his father.

“You should be _grateful_ she did. None of us wanted it. We all know you’re doing it for attention!”

“Attention? _Attention?!_ You think I’m- I tried -that I’m suicidal for _attention_. God. Fuck you! I can’t! Don’t you think I hate this? I hate _me?_ I know I’m a fucking mess, Larry, that’s why I did it! So, all your _fucking_ attention could be on Zoe, where it _matters_ , and I couldn’t _bother_ you anymore! The point was instead of all your _fucking_ negative _attention_ , I’d be dead! Gone! No need to dwell on the dead? Fuck you. _Fuck you!_ ”

“What did you just say to me?” Larry took a step into his room.

Connor clenches his fists, so they won’t tremble. His head hurts. It’s too loud. Too much. God, he wants it to go away. He was it to _fucking go away_. But it doesn’t. His chest is filling. His eyes are watery- nononono he _can’t_ cry, he can’t show weakness, just- get rid off it.

Shove it down.

Make it disappear.

Stop.

_Stop it._

He squares his shoulders. “ _Fuck_. _You._ ” He spits.

He wants to smile as he watches Larry’s face turn red, his eyes narrow, and almost literal smoke puff out of his nose. Then he doesn’t want to smile. Not at all.

Larry grabs his upper arm so hard it’ll bruise. “You’re acting like a _ten-year-old_. Did I never teach you to have respect for your mother and I?”

Connor, heart beating out of his chest, trying to twist out his grip, snaps, “What does Cynthia have to do with _anything_ , she not the one who came storming into my room telling me my friends are _freaks_ , and I’m only depressed for _attention_!”

“Be quiet, _boy_.”

Connor took a breath in to scream at the top of his lungs, but Larry-

Hit him.

Connor shuts up.

He’d been yelled at.

He’d been criticized and mocked.

He’d been grounded for obscene amounts of times.

He’d been stuck in his room and told not to come out until Larry came and got him and left there for days.

He’d never. _Never._ Been stuck.

Not even spanking when he was little. Cynthia didn’t believe in that. She didn’t think violence was the right way to teach a lesson.

He’s crying.

He blinks, silent, as he’s dragged into the bathroom.

Larry laughs- _laughs_ -at him. “So, you’re a pussy now? Fucking _fag_?”

He tries to take a breath without sobbing, and utterly fails.

Larry is fumbling with acetone. He scrubs at Connor’s hands until his beloved black nail polish is gone. Scissors make an entrance, and Connor whimpers a bit, trying a little harder to get away.

“Hold. _Still_. Unless you want an ear cut off?”

Connor freezes, the tears redoubling.

Larry is taking handfuls of Connor’s shoulder-length, slightly curly, slightly matted, chocolate brown hair, and cutting it off.

“Maybe that’ll teach you? Huh?”

Teach him what?

That he’s a fucking fag? He knows.

That he’s a fucking pathetic mess? He _knows_.

That he doesn’t deserve the life he has? _He fucking knows_.

Larry is gone. Connor sinks to the floor of the bathroom.

His hands are shaking. He reaches for the scissors. Opens them wide. Drags the tip, firmly, across his left forearm.

Red, bright, blood beads up to the surface of his skin, pools, and slides down the side of his arm.

He blinks and there’s more. More. More. More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, but ever enough.

He switches arms.

There are dots in his vision. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s losing blood or hyperventilating.

Everything is going dark again.

He’s scared.

He’s not ready.

Not yet!

_I’m not ready!_

_You’re_ weak _, a failure, what are you waiting for. Let go._

“I want to say goodbye…”

_You don’t deserve to say goodbye, you selfish fuck up._

_You’re a mess. A fucking pathetic mess._

“Stop it.”

_Faggot._

_Queer._

“Shut up.”

_Eerie._

_Freak._

“Go away.”

_Psycho._

_Monster._

“Go away!”

_Crazy._

_Insane._

“Stop it!”

_Worthless._

_Pathetic._

“Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”

_Wannabe._

_Liar._

“Go away! Leave me _alone_!”

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

“Shut up! Stop it stop it stop it shut up shut up!”

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

“Stop, just leave me alone, shut up!

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

“Leave me alone!”

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

“Stop it.”

_Selfish._

_Selfish-_

“Shut up…”

“Connor?”

His eyes are hazy. He’s not sure he’s seeing straight.

“Zoe?” Connor stares past her, at the wall.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His eyes flick towards her. She sighs a little bit and turns and to dig in the cupboard. She finds gauze and tape and band aids. Below the sink she finds a rag and rubbing alcohol.

“Can I touch you?”

“I guess.”

She begins to mop up the blood, wash out the cuts, and apply dressing.

“Come on.”

She takes Connor into his bedroom, sits him down on the bed, and begins to dig through the dresser for a change of clothes.

When she turns back, Connor’s staring at his hands, stained brown, nails bare and pink.

“We can paint them again, Connor. It’ll be OK. Here. Get changed.” She leaves the room.

He tugs off his jeans and shirt, changing into pajamas Zoe found. He stares at the door a second, then curls up on his bed.

Zoe comes back in. They sit in silence.

“Can… Can you stay? In my room?”

“What?” She sounds genuinely shocked.

He shakes his head, shrinking in on himself. “I- Never mind, I don’t care, it doesn’t matter-“

“I’ll stay. It’s OK.”

Connor sits up and crawls under the covers, then holds them open for Zoe. She hesitates then kicks off her shoes, peels off her socks, and follows.

They lay there a moment, then Zoe laughs a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t turn out the light.”

Connor smiles.

Zoe turns off the light and gets back in bed.

It’s quiet, and Connor almost thinks Zoe’s asleep, but then she says, “Are we… OK?”

Connor rolls over so he’s facing her.

“If you want to be.”

Zoe smiles. “OK.”

“Are? Are we?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re OK. We’re good.”

Connor smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if it's because i haven't slept for more than 8 hours of sleep in the past three days, but when i was writing the trigger warnings for the notes at the top, the phrase, "non-consensual haircut" came to mind and i-  
> i have died.  
> comment? i like those they're cool  
> (please tell me if what i wrote counts as abuse so i can tag it if it is)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time forth rolls around, Evan’s brain has completely shut off. Zoe had laughed at him. No, she hadn’t- He was being stupid and over sensitive, because that’s what he is. Stupid and over sensitive and scared and hideous and fat and he just can’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops i had this written on the fifth, but it never got posted cuz i'm dumb.  
> i have no idea what's even happening any more so have fun

Evan wakes up sore.

He sighs and sits up. Looks around his room. His covers are mostly on the floor and so are yesterday’s clothes. He looks down at himself. His stomach is a little puffy, and he pulls his shirt up to look at the underneath. The scabs, old and new, mar the entirety.

Then, with a shock, he remembers last night. Dinner at the Murphy’s. Spacing out. Connor yelling and storming away. Zoe’s face- wet with tears, and the following attack. Zoe taking him home, throwing up, telling her he was OK, he wasn’t, and going upstairs to cut, but it not being enough-

He looks at his available wrist.

Winces.

Elbow to palm, crisscrossing horizontally up and down the length. He sighs. So much for staying under the radar. Now he’ll have to wear long sleeves, but it’s September, and no one wears long sleeves in September unless they’re a cutter, and either way, what about his left arm? It’s casted. What if the cast doesn’t fit in the jacket? Everyone will see his arm and _know_ , know what a freak his is, and that he jumped out of- no. _No._ Stop. He fell. _Fell_. His arm _will_ fit in the jacket, even if he has to wear one of his mother’s and it’s purple and embarrassing.

He rubs at his face and stand up. His thighs pull. Ow.

He changes, jeans, for once, a green t-shirt that his mom said made his eyes pop, and a light blue windbreaker. His arm fits.

Then socks. Phone?

He opens up his phone and frowns. He has thirteen new messages.

**Jared:**

**6:12 AM**

_ride?_

_dude i swear if you’re still ignoring me_

**Unknown:**

**6:29 AM**

_Hey, Hansen! It’s Zoe! ;P :)_

_Alana Beck gave me your number…_

_(don’t ask me how she got it i have no clue she’s some sort of miracle worker i swear)_

_I just wanted to check up on you!_

_You seemed pretty out of it last night…_

_Even threw up!_

_lol_

_I told you the lasagna was bad! XD_

_do you want a ride to school?_

**Unknown (2):**

**6:31 AM**

**** _Hi, Evan! It’s Alana Beck- Just a reminder that you’re Vice President of the club I started! It’s after school today starting at 2:30! It goes until 3:00, though normally it will go until 4:00, we’re still getting everything set up. All you need to do is come, and I can handle most of it! However, I’m asking you and Zoe Murphy, our Secretary/Treasurer, to stay a little longer to brain storm ideas! It sound like she will drive us home. I’ll see you at school!_

_By the way, I gave Zoe your phone number, I hope that’s OK!_

He sighs, again, and updates his contacts, then texts Jared: I never meant to ignore you. I’d like a ride, thank you.

Zoe: I’m good, thank you. I already have a ride but thanks for the offer!

Alana: Yeah that’s fine. See you at school.

As he gathers up homework, brushes his teeth, weighs himself (112.6 lbs), and heads downstairs to put his shoes on, he gets a couple of responses:

**Alana:**

**6:39 AM**

_:)_

**Jared:**

**6:42 AM**

_On my way_

**Zoe:**

**6:43 AM**

_Good! :) You’re welcome!_

A car honks and Evan grabs his backpack, and heads outside to meet Jared, stomach churning. What if Jared said something about the windbreaker? Or his shirt? Should he zip the jacket up? Or his jeans! He _never_ wears jeans, what was he _thinking_?

He takes a breath and gets in to the passenger side.

“Hi.”

“Acorn! Hey!”

Evan practically faints with relief as Jared doesn’t say a word about him or his outfit, blaring about the girl in AP Stats that kept stealing his attention.

They get to school and head inside. Evan can spot multiple people in jackets, including one Connor Murphy, who..? Got a haircut? He shakes it off and gets his books out of his locker.

Jared. Well, doesn’t.

“Did you see the school shooter? That _haircut_ , damn, I didn’t know he was that hot! I guess that’s one thing- JD kink… It’s so messy! Did he do it himself? Isn’t he, like, rich? Couldn’t he just have someone do it for him? Or, at the very least, fix it up for him?”

Evan shrugs and shut his locker.

He really doesn’t want to be here.

Shivers run down his spine.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

_What’s wrong with you-_

“Hansen!” He blinks and looks up. Zoe’s headed their way, Connor in tow.

“Hey, Z-Zoe.”

“You’re coming to ‘Lana’s club right? She said you were VP?”

“Uh, um. Yeah, that’s- That’s right.” Evan glances at Jared, who is giving him a very weird look.

“Cool! Con and I are going- that is, if I can drag his ass up there.”

Connor, who had been silent, rolls his eyes, and runs a hand through his short, messy hair. “I’m going to kick and scream like a toddler the whole way and you know it.”

“Well, I’m your ride, and you can’t have the keys, so it’s being locked out of the Beetle or attending ‘Lana’s club.”

“Why are you going, again?”

Zoe shoves at his shoulder, a smile on her lips. “She’s my _girlfriend_. Plus, I think I’m secretary/treasurer or something.”

“That’s good, if Evan’s going I think he’d need a familiar face. Since. You guys are, apparently, familiar.”

Connor glares at him. “And who are you?”

Zoe elbows him in the ribs. “Be _nice_.”

“The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow.

Evan presses his hands into his thighs. Connor glares. He stops.

Zoe and Jared, somehow, start a fervent debate on something or other, leaving Evan and Connor.

“What- your- Um. What happened?”

Connor stiffens, a hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair again. “My, uh, dad, decided that it was about time to get a haircut.”

“Oh. Did? Did you- um. Did you want to cut it?”

Connor smiles a little bit and looks away. “No.”

“Oh. Well-“

The bell rings. Connor turns on his heel and is gone.

“See ya, Acorn!”

“Bye, Jared…”

Jared and Zoe walk away together, and he can hear them still talking:

“Acorn?”

“It’s how he broke his arm.”

“What?”

“He fell out of a tree. Like an acorn?”

Zoe laughs.

Evan turns and heads to first period.

By the time forth rolls around, Evan’s brain has completely shut off. Zoe had laughed at him. No, she hadn’t- He was being stupid and over sensitive, because that’s what he is. Stupid and over sensitive and scared and hideous and fat and he just _can’t_.

AP Statistics- Mrs. Lyons. And Connor. Should he sit next to Connor? Probably. Then… Why isn’t he moving? He picks up his leaden feet and walks over to Connor.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

He sits. Class starts. Evan pulls out his notebook and takes notes. Connor pulls out a notebook and draws in it.

It’s kind of distracting.

The way his pencil draws a circle, a few lines, and then there’s a face. Hair. Clothes.

It takes Evan a second to realize it’s a self-portrait. With long hair. As he shades and details, Evan concludes: Connor is an amazing artist.

Class ends and Evan and Connor, in silence, go to lunch together. Evan picks at his nails as Connor eat a sandwich.

“No lunch?”

“Uh… I’m- I’m not hungry.” He’s a liar liar liar, he’s just hideous-

Across the table, Connor tosses him an apple. “You’ll be hungry. Here.”

“Oh. Great. Thanks.”

Fifth. Creative Writing- Mrs. Hiller, one of the classes Evan found himself liking, and especially now, sitting next to Connor.

Seventh. French 3. Mr. Rouse. Evan is no better at talking to Connor in French than he is English, he finds.

School finally ends, and Evan knows he won’t get away missing Alana’s club. He goes there, Connor tailing, a little pouty, behind.

Alana’s already there, setting up chairs in a circle and taking to the school counselor.

“Evan! You made it! Mrs. West? This is Evan Hansen, our VP.”

“N-nice to- uh, nice to meet you.” He wipes his hand off on his pants- Connor allows it -and shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you too, sweetie. And you are?”

“Uh. I’m- Connor Murphy. My sister’s secretary/treasurer, and my ride so, uh.” He offers a weak smile and doesn’t shake her hand.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, Connor! What happened to your hair? It looked nice long.” Alana is bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, and Evan wonders if maybe there’s a reason.

“My dad. He uh. Decided it needed cut.”

“I mean, not that it looks bad! You look great, Connor.”

“Thanks, ‘Lana.” There is no emotion in Connor’s voice, and from experience, that scares Evan.

The club is small, and for that, Evan’s thankful. Just eight people, including himself and the counselor. They go around in a circle and share their name, pronouns, and something interesting about themself.

_Evan, he/him, ~~I have anxiety~~ ~~I am depressed~~ ~~I have an unspecified eating disorder no one knows about~~ I’m writing a book._

He is. He’s writing a book. Just. He’s been busy. And Niki and Ryan feel less important all of a sudden. He can’t bring himself to write about a world beyond the stars when he feels hideous and wrong and all that _great_ stuff.

He doesn’t really pay attention. Alana already got a scholarship to some psychology program. Zoe is colorblind, but, like, a really rare kind. Connor paints.

After, they talk. He is an idiot and mentions maybe they could write letters? Like pen pals or something. And everyone thinks that’s a great idea. You would only tell someone your name if you wanted to. At club, the letters would be handed in and passed out again by Alana or Evan or Zoe.

Evan rides with the Murphy’s again and goes home and then there’s a hand on his arm. Sharpie on the back of his hand.

“My number. Text me.”

“OK. See you, Connor. Zoe.”

He stares at the numbers once he’s inside. Enter them into his phone. Nervously, he sends a text.

**Connor:**

**Now**

_Hey. It’s Evan._

He shuts his eyes. Weighs himself (111.9 lbs). Does homework. Shower. Go to bed.

Suddenly, he thinks about the apple in his backpack. God, he’s hungry.

Rage fills him. He jumps out of bed and throws the apple away.

He sits on the edge of his bed, feeling overwhelmed. He’s stuck. Stuck in a spiral, killing himself. Maybe he should just do it, so he doesn’t have to waste away. But. He’s so- selfish. That’s the word. Selfish and scared. He’d rather die slowly than face his mistakes. Failures.

He’s such a fuck up.

What was that thing, that his dad always said before he left?

_“I never even wanted kids.”_

He wasn’t even wanted.

He wasn’t welcome.

He wanted to-

He wanted to die.

He fucking wanted to die.

_He really fucking wanted to die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything fucking sucks and i really relate to evan uwu  
> So apparently, in the book??? Connor actually has a friend??? Miguel? and, because I'm me, I have to worm him into my plot. so.  
> comment. or PERISH.  
> lol idek


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His phone buzzes. Odd. What time was it? 6:07 AM
> 
> He didn’t even have school today, Jesus Christ!
> 
> He unlocks the device and navigates to the messenger app. 
> 
> Evan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! Don't know what this is but it was fun to write!

Friday came and went with no, or little, trouble. Evan continued wearing a wind breaker- Connor couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d press into his thighs.

Connor couldn’t stop thinking about a lot of things.

Evan’s light green eyes, flicking from place to place. Evan’s freckles, almost gone, probably from the internship at the state park. His apple. Evan’s apple. The apple Connor gave to Evan. The red shine as it went in a graceful arch from Connor’s hand to Evan’s.

Evan’s hands.

His cuticles pushed back, nails bitten to the bed, rough. His thin fingers, round, worn palms, a little bit of pen on the side of one of his left fingers, the hand still encased by a cast. A cast with Connor’s name over the back, Zoe’s a little below it, and much smaller. A cast you couldn’t see because of the light blue jacket.

Had he eaten it? Or been disgusted by Connor’s day-old apple and thrown it away? Or forgotten about it and left it at the bottom of his bag to rot?

Had he eaten? Connor had only ever seen the boy eat at the disastrous dinner on Wednesday, and Zoe said that he’d thrown up the minute they got home.

He sighed and rolled over. These were really weird 3 AM thoughts.

Was it 3 AM?

Another roll. He squinted. 5:41 AM.

God, he didn’t want to get up.

Had he slept at _all_? Or just day-dreamed in the night?

He was _never_ going to sleep.

Kicking the covers off, he moped downstairs. The light in the kitchen was on. He ignored whoever it was, heading for the cereal.

“Good morning.” His voice was gravelly and dry. He needed water.

He grabbed the remnants of the Lucky Charm and moved to the fridge. Pulling out the milk, he turned to the table. Zoe frowned at him.

“You’re lactose intolerant.”

“So?”

“You shouldn’t have cereal with _milk._ ”

“There was milk.” He shrugs. “It’s worse than my addiction to cocaine.”

“You’re not addicted to cocaine.”

“Says who?”

“Who says what? Connor, Zoe, what are you doing up?” Cynthia, her hair tied up in a towel, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and no make-up, walks into the kitchen, giving her children a look of amused bewilderment.

“Couldn’t sleep.” They say in unison.

Connor turns to look at Zoe, who raises an eyebrow.

“Connor!”

He pours his milk and leans over to grab a spoon. “Yes, Mother Dearest?”

“You can’t eat that!”

He dips his spoon into the cereal and brings it to his mouth. “Why not?” He asks, chewing.

“You’re disgusting _and_ you’re going to get like, hives or something!”

“That’s _sugar cereal_ , it’s so unhealthy! And you’re lactose intolerant!”

He takes another bite and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Sugar is the true cure to depression.”

“More like the cause! It messes with your brain!” The bowl is bodily thieved from him, the milk slashing out the side before Cynthia dumped it down the sink.

He whines in mourning and pouts at her.

His phone buzzes.

Odd.

What time was it?

6:07 AM

He didn’t even have _school_ today, Jesus Christ!

He unlocks the device and navigates to the messenger app. Evan?

**Evan:**

**Now**

_hey cononr its evan i just want ed tosee if you coudl come picl me up?_

_its important_

He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and worried on it.

_What time should i come?_

_now?_

_what’s wrong?_

There was a long, long pause. One where the skin of Connor’s lip broke and he didn’t notice, and blood dribbled onto his chin and Zoe looked over his shoulder and frowned.

_osrry_

_i shouldnt have saidn anything neverimndf_

_sory sorry sorry_

_sorry_

_i’m on my way_

_no! nevermind_

_im sorry_

_nevermindd_

“Zoe?” He asks, voice shaking slightly.

“Already there. Come on.” She shakes the keys a little and they bounce together, jingling.

“Where are you going? Connor? Zoe!”

“Sorry! Got to go!”

They were outside before Cynthia could protest further.

Zoe started the Beetle and pulled out, taking the increasingly familiar roads to Evan’s house. There was a car in the driveway. Connor hopped out of the car before it was fully stopped, running to the front door.

“Jesus, Connor, chill!”

He knocks, rocking on his heels a bit. He knocks again, then fumbles with the doorbell a couple of times.

The door opens.

“I said- I said, ‘never mind’.” Evan hisses.

“You. I- I was worried?”

“It’s- It- It’s just not a good time, I-“

“Evan, who is this?” A man steps up behind Evan and places a hand on his shoulder. Evan cringes.

“Oh, um. This is- these are my- my friends? Or um- Yeah. Connor and Zoe. Murphy.”

Zoe clears her throat, and, still in flannel pajamas and a ratty, worn out sweater, elbows Connor out of the way and holds out her hand. “Hi! Nice to meet you. Zoe.”

When Connor doesn’t say anything, he gets another elbow in the ribs. “Um. Hi.”

“I didn’t know Evan had- Had friends coming over, come in!”

They go inside and sit on a couch, Connor frowning at the purple shag carpet.

The man laughs, suddenly, and says, “Sorry, I totally forgot! I’m Mark. Williams. Evan’s dad.”

The man- Mark, still has a grip on Evan, who, visibly, shrinks at the reference to their relationship.

“I’m divorced with Evan’s mother, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t support my son!” He smiles. “I was over here and thought I’d stop by. We never get together anymore and, well… Christ! Look at the time! I’ve got someone to go meet! Evan, I’ll be back around 3:00, ok?”

“’Kay.”

Evan’s shoulder was given a squeeze and then Mark was gone.

As soon as the door closed, Evan brought his knees up to his chest and mumbled into them, “You can go.”

Zoe laughed. After a second, so did Connor. “Daddy issues?” Evan curled tighter. “Dude, my life is practically _based_ off my daddy issues.” Connor scoots over and sticks two fingers into Evan’s side.

Evan hisses and shifts his arms, so they protect the area.

“Come oooooooooon. We’ll go around the circle. My dad is Larry, he’s an asshole and doesn’t know how to keep it to himself. He criticizes anything, everything, and everyone, and he won’t hesitate to tell it to their face. Zo?”

Zo laughs. “We have the same dad.”

“Zoeeeeeee?”

“My dad’s Larry, an asshole and downplays my problems like they’re not real. He refuses to acknowledge my sexuality or the fact I have a girlfriend.”

“Evan?” He smiles kindly. “You don’t have to.”

Evan started to press his palms into his thighs but stopped. He frowned. “My dad’s Mark, an asshole, and ditched my mom and I for a cocktail waitress at a bar he’d already been banned from. He never calls and pretends I don’t exist unless it benefits him. He didn’t even want kids.”

Connor winces. Then held out a fist. “Dads suck.”

Evan glances up at him. “Dads suck.” He gently knocks his own knuckles into Connor’s and pulls back.

Zoe stands sharply and stomps her foot. “Dads suck!” She grinned at them.

Connor follows her up and proclaimed, “Dads suck _ass_!”

Zoe reaches a hand out to Evan as she shouted, “DADS SUCK _ASS_!”

Evan took it with hesitation and is pulled to his feet.

“Come on!”

“FUCK YOU DAD!” Evan winces and glances at Connor, who is having too much fun. Connor give him a wide smile, and Evan’s lips, unprompted, flicker up. Connor’s grin, impossibly, widens and he whoops and shouts again. “FUCK YOU DAD! GO TO FUCKING HELL!”

“Evan, come _on_.” Zoe raises their still-connected hands and shakes them vividly.

The ghost smile becomes a little more substantial. He clears his throat and says, rather calm, steady. “Dads suck.”

Connor whoops again and jumps in the air, creating a loud thud when he comes back down.

Evan says it again, louder. “Dads _suck_!”

Zoe starts laughing and Evan is too, and Connor is very, very glad he got a distressed text too-early in the morning and with an absurd amount of typos.

“ _Fuck_ you, Dad!”

“Yes!” Zoe pumps an arm.

Evan turns toward the door, as if his father is lurking around a corner eavesdropping, “FUCK YOU DAD! GO TO HELL!”

The door opens and they all jump.

There is a ringing in Connor’s ears as a woman in light purple scrubs, blonde hair in a bun, enters, a look of confusion on her face. “Evan? Everything OK, sweetie?”

Suddenly, Zoe can’t stop laughing. Connor elbows her, but he’s grinning. Evan smiles weakly. “Yeah, we’re fine, Mom.”

“Did something happen with your father? You know he doesn’t live here, I can kick him out if he’s bothering you?”

This makes Zoe laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i have no idea what Evan's dad's last name is, but Heidi's is "Hansen" so i'm assuming it's her maiden name, and they got a divorce, so.... Williams.
> 
> Comment and tell me i suck!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the almost disastrous shouting match, and the following laughter and explanations, Evan’s mom reminds him he’d getting his cast off today. Zoe makes an ‘ew’ face and says she’s in pajamas anyways. Connor, however, sleeps in clothes. Apparently. And he shoos her away, telling her he’ll be fine, go away.
> 
> This leaves Evan to be anxious about the appointment alone with Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah bonding also??? ha yes.

After the almost disastrous shouting match, and the following laughter and explanations, Evan’s mom reminds him he’d getting his cast off today. Zoe makes an ‘ew’ face and says she’s in pajamas anyways. Connor, however, sleeps in clothes. Apparently. And he shoos her away, telling her he’ll be fine, go away.

This leaves Evan to be anxious about the appointment alone with Connor.

He sits on his bed.

Picks at his nails.

Tries to think of something to say.

Connor beats him to it.

“Are we friends?”

“What?”

“I mean, you saved my life, and we’ve kinda been hanging out this week? Isn’t that how it works?”

Evan swallowed.

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

_What’s wrong with you-_

“I guess?”

“I mean, I still don’t- I’m not thanking you for that.” He clears his throat. Evan wonders what he means. “But the hanging out part?”

“I don’t-“ He laughs a little, but it’s wrong and doesn’t fit in his mouth quite the right way. “I’ve only ever had Jared. And you know how he is. I’m not sure what defines a friend.”

Connor laughs back. “I mean, I only ever had one friend. Crazy, right? Connor Murphy had _friends_? We met at Hanover- that private school? Sophomore year. And then some asshole stuck weed in his bag and reported it. I said it was mine.” Connor shuffled his feet. “They kicked me out, and here I am!”

“What-? What happened to him?”

Connor gnawed on his lip. “Something happened. I don’t like thinking about it. I just try and pretend he doesn’t exist.”

Evan wondered what but didn’t push. “If we’re not friends now? Then I- I want to be. If you want. That. Too.” He wanted to curl up and not exist.

“Yeah. Friends.” Connor reached out his long leg from where he was sitting on Evan’s desk chair and nudged him in the shin.

Evan watched it happen.

He mimicked the movement and Connor laughed.

_He’s not laughing at you, he’s not laughing at you, he is not laughing at you._

“What do you like to do?” Evan doesn’t know who asked the question for a second, then realized it’d been him.

Connor’s smile faded. “Um. Paint. And write- God- you said you were writing a book at that club, but I just like- poetry. I write poetry. And I like to read?”

“That’s cool! I’ve had trouble writing recently, and I’ve never even thought about poetry- wait, I didn’t- I just meant, like, I’ve always wanted to write big, thick novels, and I’m not very good at poetry. It’s more whimsical. Musical. I- I don’t know…” He trailed off. Then cleared his throat. “Harry Potter?”

“Are you- Are you asking me if I read Harry Potter?”

“Yeah…?” 

Connor snorted. “Who _hasen’t_?”

Evan laughed, but it was stilted and a little fake. “Slytherin.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re a _Slytherin?_ I thought you be, I dunno, like Ravenclaw?”

“What are you?”

“Hufflepuff.”

Evan laughed. Connor kicked him again, hard. “Don’t laugh at me! Hufflepuff is underrated!”

At 12:15, they leave for Evan’s appointment.

Connor is a little jumpy about being in a hospital, but Evan is too nervous to think about his maybe-friend. He has other things to worry about. Like how he hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm. Like the scale he’s going to have to stand on or how, in a trance, the lines on his legs moved to his arm and now it’s ruined, and everyone will know. He thinks, maybe, he’s dying. The way he can’t quite breathe. The way he sees red and blue, and hears sobbing, and smells vomit and pills, and tastes milk and cheerios, and feels Zoe’s fingers wrapping all the way around his upper arm. Maybe it’s just a panic attack. There is quite a lot to be panicky about.

Connor is joking about how now everyone won’t be able to tell they’re friends at a glance, and he never got to smack someone with it- so he smacks Connor -and he laughs. But Evan still feels odd and floaty and drowning all at the same time.

He is asked to take off his shoes, he does so, and stand on the scale.

He stares at it dimly, a slight frown that the nurse mirrors, as it ticks around then decides on ‘lbs 107.1’

He wishes he would lose so much weight that he would disappear. Crumple into nothingness.

They check his height next, which kind of embarrasses him, because Connor doesn’t need to know he’s too short and too skinny and too anxious and too wrong-

The nurse writes it all down.

He’s 5’ 7”. His mother is a nurses aide. She can guess what’s wrong.

He feel wrong, off-center. Walking down a path that he didn’t want to be on. Odd and floaty and drowning all at the same time.

She doesn’t have him change into a gown, which he’s grateful for, and he pulls off his jacket and tugs it over his right arm.

He’s given goggles and reassured they’re going to be very careful, and then a saw is buzzing, loud, loud, loud, and then his cast is being tugged off. There’s a quick x-ray, then Evan puts his jacket back on and they leave.

Nothing collapsed.

His tightly wound lie stayed intact.

He let out a breath.

It was starting to be cold, nearing November, just a couple days away, and jackets were acceptable. By the time it got hot enough not to wear one, the marks on his arm would have faded and everything can go back to normal.

Connor kicks him.

It’s enough to drag him back to his body. He blinks and looks at Connor sideways.

“You’re in space again.”

Evan snorts and starts to pick at the hem of his shirt. “Space is cool.”

“You shouldn’t be there without a helmet, or a tether. It’s not healthy.”

From the front seat Evan’s mom asks, “Is there some sort of code I should know…?”

Connor laughs. His mom laughs. Evan smiles and blushes a little bit.

Evan’s mom drops them off at home, she has to go back to work, and the moment the door closes behind them, Connor proclaims, “I’m bored.”

Evan snorts. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“What’ve you got?”

Evan tries not to let it sting as he says, “I’m not actually sure. We don’t watch movies a lot.”

He opens up the cabinet under the TV stand and goes through DVDs . Connor kneels too and picks up what Evan’s cast aside. “The Sixth Sense? I don’t peg you as the horror-type?”

“It’s not horror, it’s gory and sad, and the case says it’s a mystery. Plus, that was the ‘no’ pile.”

Connor pulls the disk out.

“What are you doing?”

He blows the dust off, cleans it with his sleeve and scoots over to the DVD player.

“We’re watching it.”

He sticks it in and turns on the outdated machine, then the main TV.

“Connor! That was- uuuuuuuuughh.”

Connor goes and flops down on the couch. Evan, reluctantly, follows him.

Evan, refusing to watch, tries to talk to Connor, but not much happens. A lot of shooing, shushing, kicking, and sticking hands over mouths (and one time, getting them licked).

There’s silence between them for a very long time before Connor pauses the movie and asks if he can have some cereal.

“Why?”

“Because, my mom stole my lucky charms this morning because sugar causes depression, apparently, and we never ate lunch.”

Evan wants to smack himself upside the head or rub his hands into his thighs. He’d almost forgotten normal people eat three times a day, usually with snacks in the mix.

“Yeah, there’s milk in the fridge and we might have cheerios some-“ His chest tightens. He coughs. “Somewhere.”

Connor groaned. “ _Cheerios_? Really, Evan?”

Evan tried to laugh but couldn’t.

_Cheerios and milk-_

_He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

“Evan!”

He’s crying.

He lurches to his feet and regrets it, the world tilting sideways. He sits, hard, on the floor and pulls into himself, pressing into the side of the couch. It’s a lot easier without a stupid cast.

_He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm-_

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

_What’s wrong with you-_

“Breathe. Breathe, Evan, come on, air can’t get into your lungs if you’re hyperventilating.”

“Sorry. _Fuck_. Sorry.”

“Dude, it’s fine, chill, I get them too, you’re ok.”

He makes himself take a breath. And his hands and lips and nose start tingling as oxygen returns. The black dots he hadn’t noticed begin to fade.

Connor lets go of Evan and sits back on his heels. Evan wipes at his face. Tears are still falling. He shoves his palms into his eyes.

“What… What happened?”

Evan cringes and curls tighter.

_Nonononononononono-_

Connor can’t find out, he can’t know that Evan’s so _broken_ , he can’t, he can’t, he _can’t_.

“Evan? We’re friends. Please.”

Evan hears Connor readjusting but doesn’t look up. Colors are bursting and mixing behind his eyes and he would much rather think about that.

“Um. You know, earlier? We were- I was talking about my only friend, before you, I mean, uh. You asked what happened. To him. He’s still at Hanover. We stayed connected until. Maybe- maybe a month ago? I was over at his house and he- I- He saw my arms, and I freaked out, and I- haven’t contacted him since. I left because I didn’t want him to know… well, me. That I was a mess. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t drag him down. I’ve- he stopped trying to text me after a while and I really regret it because, I dunno, I lost a friend. And, Evan, I’m really, really, fucked. Whatever’s wrong, you can tell me, and I, I won’t, like, judge you for it. I can help, or- or, I’ll try to, OK?”

“You can’t.”

“Can’t help?”

“Yes! You can’t help, my mom doesn’t help, my stupid fucking therapist doesn’t help, pills don’t help, nothing helps, nothing!”

He shuts his mouth and curls tighter. He isn’t loud. What’s wrong with him?

_What’s wrong with you-_

“Can I touch you?”

Evan nods carefully.

Long bony arms wrap around him and he’s pulled off the couch to Connor’s chest.

He takes a shaky breath. “The night you- The night you and Zoe came. I- I had cheerios. That’s such a dumb reason to have a panic attack, I know, I’m sorry.”

Connor laughed a little. “Evan, one time I had a panic attack because Zoe was braiding my hair. Do you think that that’s dumb?”

Evan tries to laugh back, but it was too sob-y and sounded wrong. “No…”

Connor holds him a bit before he asks, “What do you mean, he saw your arms?” He sits up.

Connor looked a little uncomfortable but pushes his sleeves up to the elbows.

Evan whined in sympathy and gently took them. He traces some of the newer, deeper lines with a finger before looking up. Connor is looking determinedly away.

“Connor?”

Connor looked over. Evan has a sudden urge to kiss him. It was rather odd, and Evan shoved it down to inspect and hate himself for later. “It’s OK. You’re not going to drag me down. I’m not going to judge you, either.”

Connor frowns and tugged his sleeves back down. He starts to stand, but Evan whimpers. “Can- Can we stay? Like this?”

Connor nods and re-wraps his arms around Evan. Evan let his head drop on Connor’s shoulder. Then, Connor broke the content silence.

“You- you don’t weigh very much.”

Evan hums, not moving. “I don’t eat very much.”

“Why?”

_I’m hideous and horrible and fat and wrong and worthless and why am I curled up against your side, I don’t deserve you-_

“I just- I can’t. I look in the mirror and I don’t like what I see. I don’t like what I’m becoming, though, and I- maybe. Maybe it’d be easier if I was-“ He reaches down to press at his thigh, but a hand grabs his wrist.

“Evan?”

Evan glanced up, then back down. Connor is tugging lightly on his sleeve. He looks at Connor’s face again. Slowly, he nods. It was pulled up. He didn’t look.

“Do you- Is this?”

“That’s the last time it happened.”

“These are really fresh, Evan.”

“So are these.” Evan reaches out and taps Connor’s wrist.

“Wednesday wasn’t very nice to me.”

Evan laughs. Then freezes. Then lurches back, away from Connor, tearing his sleeve down.

His dad enters.

“Hey! How ya’ doing, Champ?”

He’s fine. Totally fine. Everything’s fine. He is fine.

“Fine.”

Connor stands, and Mark’s eyes shot to him like a bullet. “I, um. Fell over.”

Mark smiles and sat down on the couch, looking at the paused movie, still on. “The Sixth Sense? That’s a good one. Evan told me he didn’t like horror.”

“It’s not technically horror. It’s a gory, sad, mystery/thriller.” Connor took a step toward Evan.

Evan wasn’t fine. No way in _hell_ he was fine.

“Connor and I are going upstairs.”

Mark frowns, but Evan can barely think.

_“I didn’t even want kids!”_

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, ‘kay?” There’s silence. Then, “Because- because I’m straight, and you’re bi?”

Connor, politely, turns toward the man, says, “Fuck you.” And pushes Evan up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bi evan is my jam.
> 
> also, as i promise, miguel!
> 
> comment!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selfish.  
> Fuckup.  
> Monster.  
> Psycho.   
> Fuckup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i was gone so long! I am back!  
> TW!!!!  
> just be really careful, ok?

Connor’s 3AM thoughts couldn’t get worse than this. And it wasn’t even 3AM. It was 4:30PM. Ish. 

All he could think about was Evan. Evan’s green, green, eyes, the look of caring in them, the support. Evan’s thin, pale fingers tracing scars on Connor’s wrist. Evan’s wrist, displayed in front of Connor, unable to look. The number on the scale, deciding on ‘lbs 107.1’. Evan’s thin, boney frame pressing into Connor. Evan saying, _“Can- Can we stay? Like this?”_

Or, _“It’s OK. You’re not going to drag me down. I’m not going to judge you, either.”_ and, _“I don’t eat very much.”_ and, _“I just- I can’t. I look in the mirror and I don’t like what I see. I don’t like what I’m becoming, though, and I- maybe. Maybe it’d be easier if I was-“_

Connor wanted to have Zoe turn the car around so he could demand what the _fuck_ Evan was going to say after that.

He thought of Evan’s arm. The before and after x-rays that Evan hadn’t looked at. The bone snapped roughly in two, pressing harshly against the outline of muscle and skin. The ragged, shaky, left-handed lines gouged, not quite healed, into his skin.

He’d been right about Evan’s arm before…

_“Maybe it’d be easier if I was-“_

He hoped he wasn’t right again.

Then he thought about that night. The night Connor had taken pills and Zoe had taken Connor to Evan’s and the hospital. That morning, he’d sent a text.

**M:**

**(one week ago)**

_I miss you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry._

He hadn’t gotten a reply.

He tried to kill himself, and Evan had eaten cheerios and gotten them ruined. Connor ruined cheerios for Evan.

What an asshole.

Connor had never intended to think about his best friend since he tried to make a joke about two queers walking into biology and failed. Until Miguel saw his arms.

Was best friend the right words, anyways? Best friends with benefits?

Best friends becoming something more?

They made out once or twice, the second leading to Connor’s shirt being removed and Miguel seeing the mess underneath and Connor running and pretending Miguel didn’t exist.

The way he’d felt with Miguel. Safe. Welcome. Warm. Happy.

Curled up with Evan on the floor, he’d felt the same way.

He bit his lip, discovering the scab he’d made this morning and picking at it, as he started a draft text.

**M:**

**(draft)**

_I have no idea how to tell you this, but I’m sorry. I ditched you over something stupid, an insecurity that you would have been fine with. Might’ve even helped with. And then I texted you, even though I knew you were at work because I didn’t want a response._

_I tried to kill myself that night. I don’t know if I regret it. I don’t know if I regret surviving. But I regret you. For not trying to make this work. Maybe, everything would be different._

_I promise I’m not going to ghost you this time, so please respond as soon as you can. I want a second chance._

He didn’t send it, sticking his phone back in his pocket as Zoe pulls into their driveway.

She didn’t get out.

Connor looked at her. “Zo?”

“What’s up with Evan? He was all red faced when I got you. Did you say something?”

Connor prickled. “Does it always have to be me, asshole? Do you not remember this morning? That happened. And, it’s after 3! He came back. He really is an asshole. He didn’t even tell Evan he was coming.”

Zoe frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just- Never mind.”

“Anything else?”

“Um?” He thought for a second. "All I know is he's struggling. Really bad."

“What? You couldn't get anything out of him?” Zoe shrieks, nearly turning the Beetle back on, Connor can only guess, to go back to Evan’s.

“Zoe! Zoe, we’ve known him a total of, like, eight days. He won’t want us tripping over ourselves to try and help him. We kinda can’t. It’s him. We can be supportive, but he has to choose not to feel that way, and then break the habits holding him in place.”

“Where did you get so wise?” Her tone is half mocking, half serious. 

“Rehab, remember?”

“And are you trying to do that?”

Connor misses his hair. Misses how he could tilt his head forward and a wall of hair could stop people from inspecting his expression. 

Is he?

_Are you?_

_Not even trying to get better, you pathetic fuckup._

_Stupid, selfish, pathetic fuckup._

He clears his throat, but his voice still sounded too weak, childish, vulnerable. “Yeah. I’m trying.”

Zoe hesitated then got out of the car, saying, “Ok, Con.”

He follows. Mumbles a response to Cynthia about his day and went up to his room. Stares at the door, gone. He wants to cry. Or punch someone. Or cut. 

He fumbles for his phone and plugs a speaker in. The music that comes through is too loud. He doesn’t care.

“Turn that down!”

Larry’s voice, as it has since Wednesday, sends an arrow of panic through him.

He leans over and turns it up.

All of a sudden, Larry is in his doorway again. “Give me your phone.”

Connor wants to scream, punch a wall, punch _Larry_ , slit his wrists, take three bottles of pills and not have Zoe find him before it’s too late. He unplugs his phone and throws it as hard as he can at Larry, who shifts, and letting it hit the wall. He can hear the screen shatter.

“Thank you.”

Connor is too scared to do anything but stand and fume until his father is gone. 

Then next bit is a blur. His hand hurts. There’s a hole in the wall. Zoe asks him what’s wrong. Zoe is crying. Running. Hiding in her room, next door to him. He’d never hurt her, why is she hiding? He’d _never_ hurt her. She’s scared of him.

He’s a monster.

He’s on the floor, against the wall, wondering maybe if he slams it back hard enough, his skull will break and his brains will spill out and he’ll be dead.

_His door is gone._

_He’s a wild, caged animal._

_He’s skittish and terrified and horrible and a monster-_

And that’s all he is. A shell. Filled with horror and rage and mental illness and the remnants of Connor, a little boy who had to have his first-grade sister fight off bullies for him, or paint his nails, and braid his hair.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want this. _He doesn’t want this._

What had happened? Zoe asked him if he was trying?

Trying to change his mindset and habits so be could be better, be _OK_.

He wasn’t.

He wasn’t brave.

He was a scared little boy who would rather run than fight.

Who would rather take three bottles of pills than try and get better.

_Weak._

_Horrible._

_Pathetic._

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

_Selfish._

_Stupid._

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

_Horrible._

_Selfish._

_Fuckup._

_Monster._

_Psycho._

_Fuckup._

_Fuckup._

_Fuckup._

_Selfish._

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

_Horrible._

_Fuckup._

_Monster._

  
  
  


_Liar._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeee i'm excited for my own stuff lol
> 
> thanks for reading! leave a comment!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory You will be found thing
> 
> Evan wanted to cry, and for someone to hold him. 
> 
> Instead, he let the blade pierce the skin of his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW dshjkfa be carefull!!!

Evan is fumbling with his lock when Jared slaps him on the back. 

“Hey, Acorn!”

Evan jumps and turns. “Oh. Um. Hi- Hey, Jared.”

“Are you ignoring me again? You hardly talked to me on Thursday or Friday, and you didn’t take me up on my offer to drive you.”

“No. Sorry. I’m- I- I don’t- um. I’m not feeling, ver-very good. And. Uh. Zoe drove me.”

“How  _ did _ that happen anyway? Does Connor owe you a boon? Do you owe  _ him _ a boon? Is he blackmailing you? Oh! I know, its a gay thing!”

“Jared! It’s not- He- I- We don’t owe each other anything, and it is most definitely  _ not _ a gay thing.”

Jared frowns. “If you’re sure…” He says doubtfully.

“I’m- I’m not even gay!”

“Mhm.” Jared raises his eyebrows, making Evan blush, ‘ Where is he anyway?”

Evan finally get his locker open. “I don’t- I’m not- I don’t know. I haven’t seen him all day. He- Zoe didn’t drive him and- He wasn’t in Statistics.” He shoves his first four period’s stuff inside and gets out the next three.

“I’ll see you- See you- in um. Government?”

“No? Where are you going? Alana Beck told me to go find you.”

“What? I’m- I always eat in the library!”

“You had lunch with Connor?”

“That’s! I- Grr, fine!”

Jared led him to the lunch room, and then off into a relatively empty corner. Alana is sitting with Zoe, Jared’s backpack dumped at their feet. Papers and binders are all spread out, and Alana is busily riffing through them, while the other girl looks confused and chews on a strand of her hair.

“Evan! Perfect!” Alana says, sitting up and smiling widely. “I need to have the full club presidency to make decisions, and you’re VP, so, here. Look these over.”

She hands over a pile of papers. The top one is a list of names.

“I think we need a good name, that states our purpose-“

Zoe cuts in, “But that doesn’t scare people away.”

“Yes. I was thinking, ‘The Connor Project’, because Connor’s, uh, well, he inspired this, and I thought it would be fitting. We’re looking to help people with difficulties like his, but Zoe says it’s too out front. Their family doesn’t need everyone to know, so that’s out of the question. Zoe thinks we should name it, ‘You Will Be Found’, but I think it’s a little, er-“

“I like it.” Evan wishes he’d never opened his mouth. Zoe is smiling at him and Alana is glaring at him like she can shove the words back in him with her eyes.

But then she smiles. “OK, perfect.”

He looks through, finding sharing problems, teaching mini-classes, doing activities like painting, art, and music. It sounds a bit like a counseling group he went to when he was fourteen and had to leave because there were too many people. 

Then the stupid letter idea. They would have the guidance counselor who was over seeing the club, shuffle names, pick out two and keep track of it.

“Like, for example, if she got Zoe and I? We’d write letters to someone we didn’t know. We don’t know who we’re writing to, unless they tell us. We’d give them to her, and according to the name she pulled, she’d give it to that person, etcetera. I would write to Zoe, but she wouldn’t know. I’d give it to Mrs. West, and she’d give it to Zoe, because she’d know. We can decide where we’re going with this later and see if the club likes it.”

“Yeah.”

They talk back and forth, Jared looking increasingly bored until he asks. “Where’s Connor?”

Zoe looks up. “He’s having a hard time right now, Jared. Not feeing the best. He’s at home.”

Evan looks up from his sleeve hems. “But he’s OK, right?”

“Yeah. Just. Dads suck, right?” She gives him a small smile. After a second he returns it.

Alana laughs nervously. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t know my dad.”

“Exactly!” Zoe pokes her. “If he didn’t suck, he’d have stuck around.”

“What about me, I don’t have a dad?” Jared raises an eyebrow in challenge at her.

She sticks her tongue out at him, and by the yelp, kicked him under the table. “Then you don’t count.”

Alana laughs.

Evan’s still worried.

Lunch ends.

School ends. Zoe starts to invite him over, then her face tightens.

“Sorry, I um. You- It’s not you, just. Connor’s not supposed to have friends over.”

“I thought- Never mind. Sorry.”

“I can still give you a ride?”

“Sure.”

Ge goes home. Homework. “Dinner”. He weighs 104.8 lbs. He showers. Goes to bed. 

He shuts his eyes, but the darkness behind them is more than he can take. His arm itches. He thinks about his arm. About the break. About the lines. His stomach churns.

Biting at his cuticles, he tries to will himself to stay in bed. 

It doesn’t work. 

Nothing does.

Evan thinks, as he pulls himself up into a seated position, that in the that he has before anyone will find him, he could be dead, a thousand times over. It only takes two or three minutes to bleed out.

He stares at his arm. He swallows and presses- 

An image if a dark haired boy, hair long, nails painted, all black and grey. 

Connor. 

Connor?

Why was he thinking about  _ Connor? _

Evan wanted to cry, and for someone to hold him. 

Instead, he let the blade pierce the skin of his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol
> 
> (please comment!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Connor pulled away, Evan’s boney hand wrapped around his wrist.  
> “Stay…” The hand tightened. “Please…”  
> Connor rode in the ambulance, holding Evan’s hand, all the way to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!!!!!
> 
> Suicide attempt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> Self-harm!!!!!!

Connor hides in his room, hands throbbing, until his phone dies and he has to steal a charger 

from Zoe.

  
  


He’s rifling through her drawers when the door squeaks.

  


“You look like death.”

  


He turns, prize in hand. Zoe’s hair has deep blue streaks, and she has a hickey on her neck. “Thanks,” He raises an eyebrow. “That from ‘Lana?”

  


She turns pink and covers it with a hand. “No- yes. But I- Connor, I-”

  


“Fuck off, Zoe.”

  


“Con-” 

  


“I’m not in the mood!” He enters his room, kicking at the door frame, “I bet you wish you left me in the park.”

  


“Is that really what you think of me?” Anger rises in her tone. “That- that I meant it? You’re suck a hypocrite! Do you know how many times you’ve screamed at me, promises to kill me? I tried-”

Connor knows she’s right, but it still hurts, “-so hard! So fucking hard to be a good little sister, a role model like dad wants me to be, and I can’t! Maybe I do wish I’d stayed home. I thought we 

were good, Connor? What happened?”

  


Connor looks at her, sits down and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

  


“ _ Sorry _ ?! You think- what, sorry? Helps? You have got to be a psychopath!”

  


“Zoe, I know I’ve done bad things, and it’s all my fault and there’s no excuse, but I’m still sorry. What else do you want from me?!”   
  


“I want you to try.” She looks him dead in the eyes, tears pooling. “I want my brother back.”

  


“I know.” He looks at his floor. Then back up. “I’m sorry.”

  


“No you’re not, if you were you’d actually try!”

  


“Shut up.”

  


_ She’s right- _

  


_ She’s right- _

  


_ She’s right- _

  


_ She’s right- _

  


_ She’s right- _

  


“SHUT UP!” He curls up, knee to his chest and covers his ears, but the voices are still there, chanting, commanding, tormenting.

  


_ Connor… _

  


_ Connor. _

  


_ Connor! _

  


“Connor!”

  


He opens his eyes and looks up into Zoe’s concerned eyes. Her make up was ruined and her hair was a mess.

  


Silence.

  


“Sorry.”

  


“Don’t-”

  


The doorbell rang, and Connor jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

  


He left Zoe in his room and ran downstairs. He swung the door open and started to greet the person standing there, but froze.

  


“What do you want, Kleinman?”   
  


“Jared?” Connor let Zoe sidle up beside him.

  


“Am I interrupting something?” He looked nervous.

  


“Yes.” Connor said.

  


“No.” Zoe said.

  


“It doesn’t matter; have you seen Evan?”

  


“No?” Connor frowned.

  


“Any texts?”

  


Zoe nodded, grabbing her phone, “I got one. He said… He just said ‘sorry’.” She looked up.

  


“Shit.”

  


“Shit!” Jared yelled and stuck his face in his hands. “I knew I should have just told her! I’m such a dumbass, no no no nonono!”

  


“What! What!?” Zoe grabbed his arm, yelling.

  


“Fuck.” Connor stared, the lines on Evan’s arm distinct under his eyelids.

  


“He always was anxious, worried about taking up space, worried about bothering people. I was going to tell Mrs. Hansen, that I thought it was getting worse, but…”

“Where would he have gone?!”

  


“There’s… There’s a park near his house?” Jared started tugging on his hair. Connor almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  


“Well what are we waiting for! Connor, backseat!”

  


They piled into the Beetle, and Jared tapping his thigh, headed to the park.

  


As they got closer, Connor could feel Zoe tense up in the empty space between them.

  


“Here!” Jared yelled.

  


They didn’t even park fully before the three of them were out of the car.

  


Connor knew this place. He looked around for the swings, finding them behind a bit of trees.

  


He started to run. Past the trees, in the same spot where just three and a half weeks ago, he’d been lying.

  


“Evan!”

  


“Go- Connor? Please- Please- Pl- Please go- go- go away.” Evan was sitting on the swings, arms bleeding, out in the open, wind breaker gone. There was a bottle of water in his lap.

  


He was trying to open a bottle of aspirin.

  


Connor lurched forward and took the bottle from Evan’s clammy hand.

  


Evan, almost in a stupor, shakily followed. “give- Give that back!”

  


“No.” He turned, “Zoe! Klienman! I found him!”

  


“C- Connor. Ple-Please. If you wo- won’t give me it back just leave m-m-me alone.”

  


Connor looked at him. His eyes widened as he realized. “Evan, what did you take! Evan!”

  


Evan’s eyes couldn’t stay in one place, terror on display.

  


Connor heard sirens as Zoe ran up. “Here.” He shoved the unopened bottle at her and picked up Evan, bridal style. 

  


He whimpered and curled in towards Connor.

Jared was waving the EMTs over to where they were, helping Connor set Evan down.

  


As Connor pulled away, Evan’s boney hand wrapped around his wrist.

  


“Stay…” The hand tightened. “Please…”

  


Connor rode in the ambulance, holding Evan’s hand, all the way to the hospital. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha
> 
> hey does anyone what to beta read? I need helppp :,(
> 
> I've been having problems with motivation, so please leave comments if you cannnnn 
> 
> it helps ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mom, I’m scared-” He gasps.
> 
> She holds him tighter. “Me too, baby, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hejkraw i keep making them ooc!!!!!!!
> 
> TW 
> 
> READ THE TAGS!!!

Evan’s days sucked. This was a common occurrence, however, today topped everything off. He’d heard his parents fighting last night and it made him think of being little and wondering what it was like to be gone.

_ “Mark, stop doing this, you have kids!” _

_ “Heidi, I married you for you!” _

_ “But not Evan. I wanted a family! You wanted a whore!” _

_ “So what! The kid’s going to spend his life in a hospital, looking like that! If you’re his mother, why haven’t you read the paperwork that says he’s so severely underweight, he’s literally starving to death? Or his arm? Scars. He cuts, Heidi, and you didn’t even notice. Talk about wanting a family.” _

_ “Get out.” _

_ “What?” _

  
  


_ “GET OUT! Get out of my house!” _

Evan wanted to die, but that was normal.

His dad was gone and his mom left work early. He wanted to try so hard to get better, but followed the feeling in his gut, the one that hated him. 

He didn’t eat. He went to school, left, but didn’t go home. He bought aspirin, benadryl, a box cutter, and a water bottle. No one even gave him a second glance.

He was numb, everything inside muddled and messy.

He walked to the park, the one his mom would take him to as a kid and he would climb trees and she would-

He swallowed that down because he had a mission.

Sitting on the swing, he dug the box cutter into his arms, then the pills. Benadryl first, little pink pills until it’s empty. He drops it on the ground.

He’s crying to hard, and he can’t get the bottle open and the world is spinning and Connor, please just give it back, demons cloud his vision and he holds on to only thing he can feel: a sweaty hand.

He wakes up with an IV and his mom at his side.

“Evan!” She hugged him tight. He thinks she might be crying, though he’d understand if she wasn’t.

“Hi.”

Something in him breaks. He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care he doesn’t care he doesn’t care-

He lies back down and lets himself wander away. 

_ “It’s your fault!”  _

_ Evan’s cheek stings. _

_ “Pussy.” _

_ Evan is crying. _

_ Crying _

_ Crying- _

_ He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm- _

_ Blood on the linoleum tiles- _

_ Cheerios and milk- _

_ The smell of vomit and pills- _

_ Sobbing, heavy and wet- _

_ Red and blue lights- _

_ Her fingers fit all the way around his arm- _

_ It’s like he doesn’t exist- _

_ He doesn’t want to be here- _

_ What’s wrong with you- _

When he wakes again, no one’s sitting at his bedside. Evan blinks and sits up. He is immediately dizzy.

He feels like someone has taken a backhoe to the base of his skull.

There’s an IV in his arm, fluid steadily being emptied into his bloodstream.

His chest hurts and he can still taste benadryl and his hands are shaky and there are shadows in the corners of his eyes and someone comes in and he feels like falling, he’s falling, falling, falling out of a tree, and no one can catch him because is he even real? He feels like he’s not real like his hands are going to go through the bed as he tries to get out of it and his legs turn to jelly as he stands because he’s not real not real not real not real-

He’s floating, because he’s not real-

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Mom?”

He can’t cry, but then the tears are streaming down his face and he can feel warmth and pressure and he can’t breathe-

“Mom, I’m scared-” He gasps.

She holds him tighter. “Me too, baby, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz comment fhJFWjkhrkjg screeee
> 
> i need a beta reader sooooooo bad! if you are interested, please comment


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No you.”
> 
> “Did you? Just-“
> 
> “I think I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW couple fighting um tagssssssss

Connor is doing what he does worse. Avoiding conflict. 

Normally, he thinks sucking up to someone is the easy road, and Connor likes to put people in their place, but today, it’s not homework or his mom. His friend, his  _ only  _ friend, or he’s pretty sure he’s his only friend, is in the hospital and he’s not allowed to see him.

Zoe is tugging on his arm, trying to get his to stop the approach to the front desk for the third time. “What is up with you!?” She hisses, throwing him back in his chair.

He runs his hand through his too-short hair and lets his eyes flick around.

“You’re still in a bad place, Con, I know that. Why are you so fixated on Evan?!”

“Because- I don’t need to explain myself to you!”

“Please, I want to help!”

“Because. Because. Because he’s my second chance, my only hope. He makes me feel… He makes me feel like things are going to be ok. I can’t- I can’t-”

“Deep breaths, Connor, deep breaths.”

“I don’t want to lose him.” Connor’s voice is barely a whisper as he slumps back in his chair and covers his face with his hands.

Connor can feel Klienman staring at him and looks over. “Fucking idiot. Mind your own business.”

“You like him.”

“What.”

“You like my best friend!” Jared starts to laugh.

“No I don’t!” Connor’s face turns scarlet.

“The great and mighty Connor Murphy is blushing over Evan Hansen!”

“Guys! This isn’t a rom-com, he’s in the hospital!” Zoe puts her hands on her hips disapprovingly. She flops down and imitates Connor, hiding her face. “He could have  _ died.” _

Her voice was tight, barely a whisper. There was silence in the room.

Connor swallowed. Stood, paced, and sat back down. 

A nurse popped through the door. “Evan Hansen is receiving visitors!”

Zoe stood faster than Connor and was practically bouncing as the three of them walked in silence to his room.

Connor entered first, noting the absence of Evan’s dad, even though he had to still be in the area.

His stomach flip-flopped seeing the frail boy. He looked like a skeleton in the hospital gown. He had two IVs and mussed up hair. His eyes were sunken and purple. They found Connor, and light green met his blue ones.

“Hi, Connor.”

“Hi.” Connor’s voice cracked and he blinked a couple times.

“Evan!” Jared pushed past Connor, and leaving Zoe in the back. “Evan, why didn’t you tell me you were struggling so hard?”

Jared would have done something with it, the images of lines dug into skin, Evan’s skin, the ones engrained in Connor’s brain. Connor hadn’t warned anyone, hadn’t give Mrs. Hansen a tip. He clenches his fists until his skin breaks.

Evan deserves so much better.

“Because you’re an asshole.” Connor can’t restrain the hostile tone.

“What?”

“Car insurance? Really? Brushing him off? Flat out bullying him? Way to go, Klienman, you got a hat! Nevermind, that’s your ass. Get your head out of it.”

“He- he knows I’m joking!”

“SHUT UP!”

They both jump and turn to look at Zoe, holding Evan’s hand and rubbing his back.

“Fighting is not appropriate in this setting.”

Connor can’t stop the smile that crosses his face.”You sound like mom.”

Jared smacks his arm.

“What?” Connor throws his arms up. “What did I do this time!”

Evan laughs quietly.

Connor smiles.

Jared frowns.

“Evan! Did you know Jared was joking?” Zoe squeezes his hand.

He shrugs, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“N-no” His voice is quiet and hoarse.

“Asshole.” 

“Shut. Up. Connor.”

Zoe sighs as Mrs. Hansen walks in.

“Hello! What’s- What’s going on in here?” Heidi laughs nervously.

Jared looks broken for a second and then his face hardens. “Bye, Evan. Mrs. Hansen.” 

Connor wonders for a second if things could have gone better, but he doesn’t move. “Sorry. About, um. That.” He looks at Evan and begins to chew on his lip.

“You better be!” Zoe slams into his shoulder on the way out.

Connor shoves the anger down-  _ Monster _ -and sits by Evan. “Hey.”

“Mom.” Evan’s voice cracks a little bit.

She holds her hands up and shook her head, “OK, OK, I’m leaving.”

Connor guessed that she’d be right outside but sat in her chair either way.

Evan glanced at Connor, then his hands. “He- Hey.”

“How are you?”

“Tired.”

“I. I want to say that- uh, well. I guess I- I’m really glad you’re ok. On the way to ok. Alive.”

“No you.”

Connor stared as Evan’s mouth tilts up, before laughing. Well, wheezing.

“Did you? Just-“

“I think I did.”

Connor smiled weakly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: Betaaaaaaaaaaa reader PPLEASE  
> also me: nah i'm too lazy to wait one day so i can get a beta reader *posts chapter anyways*
> 
> hahahaahaha i'm not funny  
> please comment i'm desprateeeeeeeee


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan covers his face and doesn’t go upstairs to check his weight from the absent scale, or pull the little blade out from underneath a box of bandaids. He takes a deep breath and starts to cry, just like the weak, fearful, shell that he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Read tags pleasssssse

Evan was released from the hospital, though not without a social worker digging around in the rooms of their house. Not much was found, only the scale in the bathroom, which had been banned to and barred in Heidi’s bathroom, with a fancy new lock on the door. 

His appointments with his shrink were increased to two times a week, which was something that could drag them down, with how much they cost and how much (or how little) his mother makes.

Jared texted him seven times, and seven times Evan left him on read.

After Connor had visited him in the hospital,he hadn’t made contact, and Evan figured, why would he?

He refused to go to school, something the Old Evan would have done, along with doing all the homework.

It was already another Saturday when the doorbell rang for the first time. 

No one cared enough to stop by and make sure he was ok, not even Jared’s moms. It was a little sad, easily predictable and such a horrible reality. It didn’t matter that much, Evan wouldn’t want to bother them. 

His mother was gone, he went to open the door. He stood in front of it for a second, trying to make himself open it, a whirlwind twisting in his head. He opened the door fast, and hit it, hard, on the inside wall. “Shit- Fuck!”

He covered his mouth and looked up. It was Zoe Murphy and Alana Beck. His face turned red as Alana’s eyes widened.

“Language! I expect that from Connor, maybe Zo, but from straight A Evan Hansen?”

Zoe snorted and elbowed her girlfriend. “That’s literally exactly what I said.”

“Um. Sorry, come in.” Evan stepped back and let the couple come in.

Alana couldn’t stop staring at him, and Zoe tried to avoid any eye contact like the plague.

“Um.” Evan’s face was slowly turning red.

“Here!” Alana handed him a plate of cookies. “I made them. Chocolate chip.” She smiled, wide and confident.

“So, um, Evan, ‘Lana and I wanted to tell you that we support you and, um-”

“We want to be here for you!”

“Ok. Um.”

“...Evan, do you self-harm?” Alana popped the question like she was asking him how to spell his name.That had only happened one time in second grade when their substitute, Mr. Young, asked him if he preferred Mark with a ‘k’, or Marc with ‘c’. Evan hadn’t even responded because no one ever called him Mark when he was a kid because when he was a baby his mom would call him Mark and then his dad would respond because his name was also Mark, and Evan hated- no, hated is a strong word- heavily disliked being called that because his dad was a fucking  _ ass _ and so Alana bringing up self harm was a mystery because literaly no one but the social worker had asked him that, maybe Alana should be a social worker-was Zoe saying his name? Because her lips were moving, oh God, what if Alana thought that he was looking at Zoe’s lips, even though he would never, that dumb crush was way back in 8th grade- was his vision supposed to go black around the egdes, because he could not remember and he couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe- and someone was touching him and he wanted to die, maybe if he let the breath thing continue, he’d die, and then all his problems would go away-

“Breathe! Evan, Evan, look at me. Focus on me.” Zoe was holding his hands.”Breathe. In- Out- Got it? In- Out- Want to count to ten? One, two, three, four, five-” Evan lost count, “-nine, ten. Good job. Spell ‘world’ backwards, can you do that for me?”

“Um. W-w- no, um. D- r, no, l- r? O w.”

“Again.”

“D- l- r- o- w-”

“Good, good. Good job, Evan.”

Evan was helped onto the couch, feeling tiny and insignificant. The helpless, weak, kid hiding in his closet while his parents fought. His hands and lips and ears and everything was tingling as he regulated his breath.

When his heartbeat wasn’t stuck in his throat, he looked up enough for the girls to notice and said, hoarsely, “I’m OK.”

Alana immediately pounced on him, “Evan, I’m so sorry,I didn’t mean to cause a panic attack, they’re horrible, I know, but I wanted to help, and needed somewhere to start.”

Zoe took a step back, not meeting Evan’s eyes, not that he wanted her to, and tugged on Alana’s hand. Her tone was strong and firm, almost a reflection of Connor, “‘Lana, maybe this wasn’t the best idea-”

“I’m trying to help, Zoe-”

“I know, and I think you gave it a good run, and maybe-”

“You do this every time, Zoe, you don’t believe in me!”

“Yes, I do! But I think you don’t know how to admit that you were in the wrong.”

“I can’t communicate?”

“We shouldn’t have this conversation here.”

“I want to talk about it.”

“I know, love, we will.” Zoe took a deep breath and tightened her ponytail, the indigo streak waving at Evan.

Zoe covered her face as Alana stayed, posture open towards Evan, and took a deep breath. “Alana, we should probably go.”

“OK.” Alana stood faster than Zoe was at the door too quickly. “Bye, Evan.”

“Bye!”

They shut the door behind them, and Evan was left behind, just like always.

_ He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm- _

_ Blood on the linoleum tiles- _

_ Cheerios and milk- _

_ The smell of vomit and pills- _

_ Sobbing, heavy and wet- _

_ Red and blue lights- _

_ Her fingers fit all the way around his arm- _

_ It’s like he doesn’t exist- _

_ He doesn’t want to be here- _

_ What’s wrong with you- _

_ Left behind, just like always- _

Evan covers his face and doesn’t go upstairs to check his weight from the absent scale, or pull the little blade out from underneath a box of bandaids. He takes a deep breath and starts to cry, just like the weak, fearful, shell that he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! Btw i have a beta reader now!! thank you so so much for those who volunteered!!!!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where are you going?”
> 
> “Evan’s! He’s my last chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags!!!  
> TW
> 
> :))))

“You did what!?” 

Connor glared at the girls, Alana still in tears, her nice, neat walls torn down and shattered. He hadn’t known her long, but Alana Beck did not cry. But that didn’t mean he was going to be nice.

“Connor-”

“No. You walked into his house? Made it confrontational, too- you know he has anxiety, right? And then asked him a triggering topic?” 

“Connor-”

“I mean, come  _ on _ ! You don’t need to have been in three hospitals to understand a trigger!” Connor tugged on his hair, similar to Jared at the Er. Once he thought of this, his hand snapped to his side, clenching and unclenching his hands. Taking a breath he started again. “And- and- and then didn’t even save your cute, couple-y fight for the car! What on God’s fucked up earth were you thinking!?”

“Connor! That’s enough.”

“Language.” Alana’s voice was weak and cracked and she said the word.

Connor stopped his pacing and sat down on the floor of Zoe’s room, stuffing his face into his knees.

“Sorry.” Connor scrunched his eyes shut and repeated the word. “Sorry.” 

_ Sorry. Fuck. Shit. God, he was a fucking mess. A horrible, sorry mess. _

_ He was always sorry, sorry for every fucking mistake, so fucking sorry. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry- _

“Oh my  _ god,  _ Connor,  _ fuck _ -” A deep breath. “Breathe, Con, it’s going to be OK.”

“No, no! My- He’s- I can’t- Zoe, I can’t- I can’t lose him. He’s- he’s, like, like, like- He’s my second chance- No, my  _ only  _ chance. I need him. I need him-”

“No- Connor…”

“Sorry.” He lurched up, running a hand though too-short hair. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” He was dizzy, nausea swirling around in his gut.

He left Zoe’s room and went into his own. He dug his phone out of wherever he’d left it and found the text to Miguel.

**_M:_ **

**_(draft)_ **

_ I have no idea how to tell you this, but I’m sorry. I ditched you over something stupid, an insecurity that you would have been fine with. Might’ve even helped with. And then I texted you, even though I knew you were at work because I didn’t want a response. _

_ I tried to kill myself that night. I don’t know if I regret it. I don’t know if I regret surviving. But I regret you. For not trying to make this work. Maybe, everything would be different.  _

_ I promise I’m not going to ghost you this time, so please respond as soon as you can. I want a second chance. _

Evan- Evan was Evan. But he existed on a wobbly line, a wall made without mortar, cotton candy in the rain, blood in the bath. He was temporary.

Connor needed someone to be his base, foundation. As much as he wanted to hold Evan’s hand, tease him, and kiss him slowly, he needed someone to do those for him. Evan wasn’t a constant. 

Evan was a lie, something that could break under tension. Migel, he was the honest and flat truth. He was always there, until Connor left.

So, he sent it, feeling guilty that he was aiming for his own safety. It wasn’t wrong at all, he knew, but he was letting Evan down, insulting him and anyone similar, including Connor himself, with his own selfish fears. It didn’t take long for a response, but by then, when he received a call from M, he’d already hated himself a thousand times over.

Zoe knocked on the doorframe as Connor frantically declined the call.

“Do you want to text Evan, see if he’s ok, as you’re the only one who gets him.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

Connor stuck his phone in his pocket and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“You made my girlfriend cry! I can’t- I’m mad at you. You’ve been an ass.”

“I know.”

“I want you to apologize-”

Connor’s phone rang again and he froze, finger above the screen and panicked. It was Evan. He couldn’t talk to Evan, not now. But Evan, somewhere along the way, had mentioned that he  _ hated  _ phone calls.

It had to be important.

He answered, making Zoe fume, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Evan’s voice was hoarse and empty. It was like listening to an echo, or a recording. Connor’s heart twisted for this boy, so similar and so different.

He cleared his throat, “What’s up.”

“My, um, my ceiling?”

All the worry and fear seemed to melt out of his body. He laughed, “God, Evan, I love you.”

For a second there was silence and then Zoe said, “Fine, talk to your boyfriend instead of me.” She entered the room.

Connor looked at her incredulously.“Um, Zoe, I’m on the phone.”

“Perfect!” She snatched the phone and almost murdering Connor as she said into the phone, “Connor, by the way, has this huge, adorable crush on you and you guys should date!”

“Zoe!” Connor made a snatch at the phone.

“What?” Zoe deflected, turning her back to him as she said, “That’s better than screaming at ‘Lana until she’s a sobbing mess!”

“Zoe! Stop it. Stop it!” Alana, face dried but with mascara marks still on her cheeks.

They froze. Alana had that effect. 

Alana held her hand out for the phone and Alana gave it to her. She talked for a second. “Hi, Evan, it’s Alana. I’m really sorry for earlier, I should have known it was too direct, especially with the field I want to work in.”

Silence hovered.

“OK, thanks, here’s Connor back.”

She handed him the phone and dragged Zoe out of the room. 

“Hi.” Evan said through the phone. There was no inflection in his voice.

“You doing OK?” Connor hoped his voice didn’t portray how worried he was. He didn’t need to confirm what Zoe had said. But how hard was that, when Evan, heart on his sleeve, was talking like that.

“Yep.”

“Sure?”

“No?”

“What’s up?”

“You.. You like me?”

“Oh. I’m-” he took a breath, his world crumbling. This was it. How he lost Evan.He considered lying, but he felt like that would be worse. He shoved down his emotions to freak out later. “Yes. I like you.”

“God, oh my God.”

“Evan?”

“You’re- He’s- You’re lying. You have to be- be- Sorry. S-Sorry. B-Bye.”

“Fuck!” Connor yelled and ran downstairs, grabbing the car keys and opening the door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Evan’s! He’s my last chance.” 

Connor turned to Zoe. 

“I have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!!!  
> ALSO!!!!!!!!!!!!   
> OMG I have 101 kudos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you guys soooo so much!!!! I love you all sooooo much!!!!!!!!!!! fhfegerhfwefjlwa


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t have it in him to fight.
> 
> He went to bed feeling broken and numb.
> 
> He knew there was something wrong with him, but just thinking about it made his insides crawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW READ THE TAGSSSSSSSSS

Evan, honestly, hadn’t meant to call Connor. It’s just that he only had 9 contacts and that meant alphabetically C and H where right next to each other, and his hands had been shaking, and he’d hit Connor instead of Heidi, and now he didn’t know if Zoe had become a comedian, because someone like Connor would never want to date him.

At least now he wasn’t thinking about the whistle of a train and how easy it’d be to go wait by the track for the next train to come along, and then be forced to call his mom because he’s a good kid and needed to tell her if he felt in danger, but Connor worked too, though, even though he’d hung up in under two minutes.

In summary:

Evan was having his third panic attack of the day.

And when the doorbell rang for the second time, it wasn’t helping. At all.

His phone rang. It was Connor.

Evan picked up.

“H-hi?”

“I’m outside your house.”

“Um. Oh. Oh!” Evan was in the foyer now, staring at the locked door. “S-sorry. I-I I kinda assumed that you were the m-mail man. He, uh, he likes to give packages directly to the person. It’s. For, I mean, to the person it’s-” 

“Please just open the door, Evan.” Connor almost sighed, like Evan was being an idiot, which, to be fair, he probably was

“Oh, yeah, s-sorry- sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“Just a sec-second.” Evan hung up and unlocked the door.

“Hi, again.” Connor looked oddly disheveled, stepping into the house.

“Um.” Evan fixed his eyes on the ground. “I- uh. What-”

Connor interrupted, “I’m really sorry about what Zoe said.”

“So- So it, it isn’t true?” There was almost relief in Evan’s voice, edging on fear.

Connor stared at him, no words coming from his mouth.

“I-I mean, I should have known right?”

“...What?”

Evan ignored the word. “Someone like you would never want to date me.” He cleared his throat as Connor processed. “I, uh, do you want to do anything? I don’t-”

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed mean?” Evan shrunk from Connor’s tone, avoiding eye contact. It was eerily similar to the first words he said to Evan,  _ “What are you laughing at?” _

“Someone as open, and understanding, and pretty, and nice, and sweet-” Evan lifted a finger to chew on a hang nail, then repressed the ugly habit and tangled his fingers into the hem of his shirt.

“Evan!”

Evan stopped, glancing upwards.

“I don’t know where you got any of that from, and I completely disagree with all of it, but Zoe wasn’t lying. She wasn’t teasing or joking or whatever. You are such a dork and I like you as more than a friend!”

Evan stood there, reached out and held onto the side table where they always kept the keys.

“ ...So. Yeah.” Connor stepped forward and the hesitated. He looked concerned, which was sweet, but he hadn’t-

Evan interrupted himself. “You just called me a whale dick.”

Connor was silent.

_ Fuck _ . Evan ruined it t. He always fucking ruins it. He ruins fucking everything- Even the little things, like Dr. Sherman’s letters and talking to his mom, and not killing himself! No one- especially Connor -even deserved that, a mess like him. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many things Evan could destroy-

Laughter. High, sweet laughter. Connor. Connor was  _ laughing _ at him. 

“Evan I-don’t-know-your-middle-name Hansen, I don’t just like you. I- I think I’m in love with you.”

“It’s Evan.”

“What?”

“My middle name. It’s Evan. I go by it because I’m actually Mark Jr.? And I- I don’t particularly care for the initials MEH.”

“Is- Is that… Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Evan, after a second of nothingness, took Connor into the kitchen and stuck two cups of water in the microwave. Connor and Evan sat at the table, awkward silence while the water warmed. Connor pulled out a bag of lemon tea, Evan a bag of Earl Grey. until it turned into awkward sipping of tea.

“Um.”

“Yes?” Connor looked at Evan.

Evan turned red and stood from his chair, taking dishes and slotting them into the dishwasher.

“I- Just. I want you to know. Um. I. You know I’m bi.”

“I’m pan? Where is this going?”

“What I’m trying to say is, uh. What I’m trying to say is, I-  _ I like you too _ .” Evan said it so fast, he could tell from Connor’s expression it was hard to understand.

It took him a second but when Connor got it, , his face mimicked Evan’s, turning scarlet and he covered it with his hands. Standing up, he started pacing. “Fuck. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck-” A deep breath.

Connor turned back towards Evan.

“In that case? Do you want- ? Will you be my-. Fuck, I can’t- Evan, I’m sorry. I like you. I like you a fucking  _ ton _ , but I- I’m an asshole! I’m not ready for something like this! It’s gonna turn out like me and Mi- fuck. God, fuck! Miguel!”

Evan, heart sinking, watched Connor pull out his phone and start typing. Then, he turned to Evan. “I’ve got to go, M’s convinced that I’m going to do something dumb, and I don’t- can’t- let him worry like that. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I promise I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll finish this. OK? Please be safe!”

Connor ran out the door, ruining Evan’s day, his life, his streak, six days without a new mark on his skin. Upstairs, numb, slow, but breathing fast and faster, tears welling up. Connor didn’t care. Connor already had Miguel. Connor didn’t need- didn’t  _ want _ Evan. 

Under the box of band-aids, a sharp edge still crusty with brown, legs exposed- Lines. Lines and lines and lines. When did that happen?

Evan cut until he couldn’t see straight because of the tears. Then he wiped his eyes, cleaned up, shoving his feelings down down down so it couldn’t hurt him and letting the understanding wash over him.

He wasn’t good enough. He was never going to be good enough. He was just floating in a world that swept him along, at a pace that he hadn’t been ready for, to a place he didn’t want to be.

But he didn’t have enough energy to try and fight it anymore. He didn’t have it in him to fight.

He went to bed feeling broken and numb.

He knew there was something wrong with him, but just thinking about it made his insides crawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today someone told me this was called slow burn and I said, "No, it's only 20 chapters right now." ... and then, i died.
> 
> please leave a comment about how you wish they'd just go on with it already


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor was hiding.
> 
> Again.
> 
> He was always hiding from something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!! read tags
> 
> sorry it's so short!!

Connor started the call before he left Evan’s house. It rang and rang, then shut off. He was panicking. It felt like that was all he was doing lately, panicking. Honestly? It sucked.

The call was returned as he threw himself in the car, wondering if, maybe, he’d been overreacting. He always did.

“Hi.” Connor’s voice was even as he spoke into the phone.

“Connor? I- I’m sorry, I’m freaking out,” His voice was half frantic, even if all he wanted to do was help. “Scars are different from a suicide attempt. Connor, you should have come to me! I would have helped! I could have- We could have fixed things. I- I miss you.” Miguel, sweet, understanding, but not enough. Miguel, kind, thoughtful, but not enough. Miguel, loving, hopeful, but never enough.

Connor, his pride be damned, almost started crying as the words were spoken. Miguel was so concerned, so caring, and Connor didn’t deserve him.

“Me too.” Connor cared about Miguel but there was no spark for this boy who didn’t, couldn’t, understand him. Connor shoved it down, but regretted the fact it wouldn’t stay hidden for long. It never does.

“I’m almost at your house.”

“What? Don’t you work today?”

“I used to. Sundays now.”

Connor pulled up to the house as Miguel jumped out of his burnt orange car. He’d always hated driving in that thing. He got out and smiled hesitatingly at the boy he’d treasured for so long.

Miguel took it a step further and wrapped his arms around Connor, breathing him in.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss you.” 

Connor could tell from the tone of voice, sad, broken, that he meant something more than just this evening. It felt like someone had a fist around his heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. It felt like he’d been pushed off a cliff, down, down, down. It felt like a sunny day, warmer, warmer, warmer.

He felt like he was floating. Or sinking. Falling. He thought of Evan’s arm. How it came to be broken, the question he never asked.

Connor hated how things had changed. Hated how he let it. Hated how easily he caved. Hated the world that had shifted without his permission. The boy that held his hand, and the one who held his heart. What if he was wrong? What if he ruined it?

Better to stay safe.

Better to hide.

In the middle of his mind, Connor forgot one important detail.

Evan. Evan’s expression when Connor remembered Miguel. Heartbroken, stuck, distraught. Alone. He knew that feeling. He knew what that was like and he left. Connor  _ left _ . 

God!

Evan.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Evan!

Connor let go and sat down so fast Miguel started rambling about his blood pressure.

But Connor couldn’t think straight enough to tell him to shut up. 

He was an  _ idiot _ . Who leaves a suicidal, self-harming, anorexic kid on his own? After he confessed and turned him down?! But had he? He had just said he had to to go. Right? 

“Connor,” Miguel sat down next to him and held his hand. His thumb swept back and forth, skin soft against Connor’s. God, he didn’t deserve Miguel. “Connor what’s happening? Connor! Connor, how can I help?” Miguel was panicky again, and it hurt. Hurt that someone so steady and calm could be altered by Connor

Connor snapped his eyes shut, snarled, “You can’t!” And immediately regretted it. And hated himself for the harsh tone.

He stood back up, and, fuck his blood pressure, started to walk shakily inside. 

“Connor?”

“No. Not right not, M, I need to think.”

“Why?” Miguel sounded so desperate. Connor was doing this! It was all Connor’s fault, his fault, his fault-

“Why!? Why! Because I love you! And I love Evan! And it’s so not fucking fair to him that he has to deal with me and trust me and want me? He’s lying, he has to be because I can’t- I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Connor, I can! I can help, I promise, I promise, just, please, let me in-”

“No, no nonono- I don’t- I need-”

“You need love and kindness and support.” Miguel brushed at Connor’s hair. 

“I need you not to tell me what I need. I don’t know what I need! I need space! Give me some fucking space!” Connor shoved Miguel. Hard, and he stumbled back, shocked.

Just like Evan. 

The first time they’d met, Connor’s hands on his chest, Evan falling harshly.

There was silence.

“Fine”, Miguel straightened. He set his jaw and took a step back. His voice was harsh. Connor stared hopelessly as Miguel’s honey brown eyes hardened and became opaque. _ “ _ Fine. Ok. That’s your choice.” He was specific and blunt and it felt like a fist in the gut.

Miguel turned around and got back into his car. Connor watched the car get smaller as it rove away. Miguel was leaving.

Connor was hiding.

Again.

He was always hiding from something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fhdjsahf i feel like this sucks even though i had my amazing beta look at it
> 
> leave a comment pleaseeeeeee


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan’s world danced. He coughed, wheezing, blood in his mouth and on his lips. His knees went slack. He fumbled, suffocating on his own blood now.
> 
> Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahahahahahaahahaaa i'm mean :)
> 
> TW REad the tagssssssss

Evan woke up at three am. He doesn’t sit up. His breath is coming in fast pants. Dots dance in his vision. His chest hurts. He wraps his fingers around one wrist, then the other. They’re not small enough.

He stands up and falls over. He collapses to his knees as the world spins, nauseous. Stars dance before his eyes and the edges turn black, taking over- 

He breathes heavily, choking, air almost failing to enter his body, until he can see, the world stops spinning. Standing and leaning on the wall, he measured his wrists again. His fingers overlap.

Nothing’s changed.

It’s not enough.

He needs to know, to count the numbers, make sure they’re ticking down. One by one.

He looks around and stops. His phone is blinking, a voicemail and four missed calls from Connor.

Evan’s shortness of breath andnaseousea came back.

He sat back down in his bed and clicked on the voicemail, bringing his phone to his ear. 

_ “Hey- Hi- Hello! Um. Sorry I suck at these, um, I- call me back. Please. And, just to be clear, I love you and would be honored if you were my boyfriend. So. Yeah. B-” _

It ended too soon, and Evan listened to it twice more. He threw down his phone and fell back, the words, “I love you.” replaying in his head. 

He suddenly squeals and throws himself back up snatching the phone and dialing Connor. He needs to tell him now now now that yes, of course he’ll be his boyfriend and he loves him too, God! Though, Connor knew a lot about Evan, something reserved for no one, as bad things happen when they do, of course they do, he’s such a mess, and Connor already had someone, from Hanover, who  _ had _ to be Miguel. 

Miguel.

Fuck.

Fuck, Miguel.

“Fuck.” 

“What? Hello? Evan? Are you OK?”

“Fuck!” Evan bit his lip and then started to cry, the ugly kind, heavy, wet sobs, just like Zoe’s-

_ He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm- _

_ Blood on the linoleum tiles- _

_ Cheerios and milk- _

_ The smell of vomit and pills- _

_ Sobbing, heavy and wet- _

_ Red and blue lights- _

_ Her fingers fit all the way around his arm- _

_ It’s like he doesn’t exist- _

_ He doesn’t want to be here- _

_ What’s wrong with you- _

_ Left behind, just like always- _

He has snot dripping down his face, God he’s disgusting, fuck fuck, and Connor’s still talking, if he can focus he’ll be able to comprehend, but he can’t because he’s crying so so hard.

“Evan!”

He takes ragged gasps of air and tries to let Connor know he’s OK, “Sor- Sorry, sorry, nevermind!”

“Evan. Evan!” 

Evan managed a: “Y-Yes?’

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and, for the record, I still want you to be my boyfriend, even though you call me at 3 am.”

Evan, somehow, laughed. It was shallow and weak but it was a laugh. Until it turned into a cough, hand over mouth, blood on his palm. He stared. There was blood in his mouth and in his hand.

“Do you want me to come over?”

There was blood in Evan’s palm. 

“I know you hate how your mom’s gone all the time.

Evan’s throat closed up and he began to cry again. Copper was the only thing he could taste.

“What? Evan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just love you. And. Um. I can’t breath.”

Fuck. He shouldn’t have said that.

“I love you too, Evan. I’m coming over, is it asthma? Do you need an inhaler?”

“No! Everything’s fine!”

“Please, Evan, let me help…” There was sudden desperation in Connor’s voice.

“Ok...”

“I’ll be over in half an hour.” 

“Ok.”

Evan squeezed his eyes shut as Connor rambled quietly, putting his boots on and grabbing his messenger back. He hates this- he never wants to see Connor, doesn’t want the commitment, and at the same time, he wants to be with Connor for forever. Which is probably toxic because it’s unhealthy to rely that heavily on one person, especially someone who was like him, God, no wrong words, that was discriminatory, like people who struggled with mental health issues can’t be in healthy relationships, even though he was referencing himself, he was being toxic, he always ruined everything Connor would never want him he’d leave eventually.

They all left.

Every. Single. One.

He jumped as someone knocked on the door. He jumped up, mind and heart racing. Had he really zoned out that long? He took a step and gasped in pain. He looked down, feeling fresh blood slide down his thigh. As he watched, blood began the bleed through his grey sweatpants. 

“Shit.”

The knocking came again and Evan hurried downstairs, covering the growing patch with one hand.

He opened the door and stood there. Connor smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Evan’s world began to spin again, and he reached out. Connor caught him. Then saw red growing on his leg.

“Fuck, Evan!”

Evan’s world danced. He coughed, wheezing, blood in his mouth and on his lips. His knees went slack. He fumbled, suffocating on his own blood now.

Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ my beta, sorry i didn't wait for you lol i was excited
> 
> are you guys having fun? because it's not getting any better from here. it's the begining of the end
> 
> please commentttttttttttt


	22. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.
> 
> It felt fake and wrong. Oh, God, Evan was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep i deleted the other ending. It was too sad and lazy. So! Have fun!

Connor barely kept Evan supported. Panic swirled in his gut. Evan’s breathing was so slow, deathly. Connor wrapped his arms around Evan’s torso. Guilt grew in his gut, feeling every rib in Evan’s chest. He swiped Evan’s legs out from under him, struggling to keep him in his arms.

His knees were horribly knobby and his hips protruded out and into his side. Connor wanted to cry. He knew that Evan struggled with eating issues, he knew Evan was skinny, but it felt like he was falling apart in Connor’s arms, falling faster and faster, and it made his stomach drop, like he was falling too. 

“Come on, wake up. Wake up! Evan, God, wake up!”

He struggled for his phone, dialing 911. 

He hoisted Evan up, getting a better grip and began to move them into the living room. Evan was so light, fragile, Connor felt so horrible for not having noticed that the boy he was in love with was wasting away into skin and bone. He swallowed down tears and he laid Evan down on the couch and held the phone to his ear.

“Help, help me-”

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” The voice was male and calm.

“My b- friend just collapsed and I don’t know what to do!”

“Is he breathing?”

“Really shallowly, he’s coughing, wheezing. And there’s blood.”

“Does he have any pre-existing conditions?”

“He’s- I think he’s anorexic? He has to be, he’s like a bag of bones. I know he makes himself throw up food.”

“Has he been hospitalized before?”

“Not for this! Now, God, please tell me you have an ambulance on the way!”

“Yes, please hang tight, I need your address.”

Connor supplied it, dashing out to the front of the house to get the house number.

“What is your name?”

“Connor Murphy.”

“What is your friend’s name?”

“Evan Hansen. Please hurry.”

When Evan was making horrible gurgling noises, intermittent with coughing. Red was spilling out of his mouth.

“Please…”

It only took a couple minutes for sirens to come, Connor jumped up and ran to the front door, throwing it open. 

The ambulance parked and a stretcher was grabbed. People ran past Connor into the living room and packed up Evan. Connor got in the back. Evan had an oxygen mask on, and his face looked gray and washed out. It made Connor want to give up, let himself go and die, but the only problem was he already was.

He was so scared, his hands shook and he couldn’t take his eyes away. 

They left him in the waiting room.

Connor had a very bad feeling. He’d forgotten his phone, so he called Zoe from the hospital’s payphone.

He was crying as Zoe picked up.

“What if Evan dies, Zo? What am I going to do?”

“Connor, calm down! I’m coming right now, Mom’s driving over.”

“Fuck, ok, ok...”

“Are you breathing?”

“Zoe?”

“Yes?”

“What if-” They lost connection.Connor had run out of minutes. 

Connor sat back down without any hope.

“Are you with Evan Hansen?”

Connor looked up sharply. “Yes?” There was regret in the doctor’s face. She smiled kindly and reached for his hand. He twitched away. 

“He has a ruptured oesophagus and alveoli. He’s- We’re trying. He’s very lucky you came over.”

“Is he going to make it?”

“I had better get back.” She loosed away and pretended like she hadn’t heard the question. She started to turn back to the ER.

“Hey!” Connor grabbed her arm and growled, “I asked you a question! Is he going to make it?” He said the last bit very slowly. 

She pulled her arm away.

“We don’t know. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Can I see him?” He lost all aggression, his voice flat.

“Not night now, it’s unsafe with the tube.We will let you know as soon as we can..”

He fell back, hiding his face. 

“He might not make it…”, he whispers.

The doors open and Zoe and Cynthia enter. Zoe runs over.

“Connor!”

“They don’t know.” He confesses, “They don’t know if he’ll make it.”

“Like if he'll live? Is he going to die?!” Zoe sounded so scared.

Connor is scared. “They don’t know!”

He tugged at his hair, and Zoe stopped him, holding his hands. “Connor, breathe. Things are going to be ok. Evan is going to be ok!”

“Sweetie, your friend is going to be just fine.” False reassurance decorated Cynthia’s face.

Connor glared wetly at his mother. “How do you know that? 

“Con, Mom’s just trying to help…”

“I know, but she’s not, she can’t!”

A woman, the doctor from before, opened the door and waved them over. “Evan Hansen is receiving visitors.” 

Connor stood so fast he got light headed. The three of them followed the woman around the corner where she stopped them. “Evan’s getting better. We just need to finish draining his lungs. We only want one person in the room.”

“Unless Evan’s mom shows up, Connor should go in.” Zoe squeezed his elbow.

Connor entered the room. 

It looked like Evan was already dead. His skin was so pale, grey and gaunt. He had a plastic tube shoved down his throat, another one for his nose, and a third leaving his hospital gown. His arms were scarred and his legs were twigs. 

He leaned forward and swept Evan’s bangs aside, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I love you.” He whispered.

Sitting down, he held Evan’s hand. He held it until light began to shine through the window, when Evan began to vomit, and cough up blood and nurses and doctors tried to keep his stable. 

Connor was holding his hand when he died. 5:34 AM. 

The doctors kicked him out. Zoe was hugging him and he was crying and trying to fight his way back in. 

“Connor! Stop it!” Zoe squeezed his middle.

“No-”

“Connor, they’re doing all they can.”

“He’s dead! His heart stopped! And they weren’t even trying! They just let him die-” He sobbed into her shoulder.

She pulled him aside. “Hey. Hey, it’s going to be ok.”

“No, no it’s not!” They sunk to the ground.

Someone was talking to Cynthia and then they were hugging, crying. She knelt by them. “He’s back. They got him back. He’s breathing again.”

Connor felt like everything was gone. He was so confused, he was happy, relieved. It was insane. 

Someone was pulling him to his feet, hugging him tight.

This wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

It felt fake and wrong. Oh, God, Evan was alive.

Everything was going to be ok.

It was all going to be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this wasn't beta read... sorry, it probably sucks. I was just randomly all like EVAN AND CONNOR DON'T DESERVE THIS! YOU'RE A MONSTER!! so i changed it. :)
> 
> Please commentttttttttttttttt


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When his mom says his name, it sounds wrong. Like when you say the same word over and over, until it sounds like, a mess, a jumble of letters that logically shouldn’t make sense. It sounds underwater and off kilter. Maybe he’s drowning. He feels like he’s drowning.
> 
> Maybe he’s falling.
> 
> It makes him dizzy to stand, so they push him in a wheelchair out of the ICU, to the psychiatric ward.
> 
> He has a roommate. He reminds Evan of Connor. He misses Connor. His name is Jack, and he has lines like Evan’s up and down his arms. Like Connor’s. They don’t talk much. Evan doesn’t talk much.
> 
> He died.
> 
> So why is he still here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! Finally, lol I'm back again, and I'm not stuck anymore. The updates should be more regular. Should.
> 
> TW for idek just be careful and safe!

Evan stares at his hands. People are talking. He knows that they’re talking about him, but he doesn’t really care.

He knows that he died, literally died, but he doesn’t really care.

When his mom says his name, it sounds wrong. Like when you say the same word over and over, until it sounds like, a mess, a jumble of letters that logically shouldn’t make sense. It sounds underwater and off kilter. Maybe he’s drowning. He feels like he’s drowning.

Maybe he’s falling.

It makes him dizzy to stand, so they push him in a wheelchair out of the ICU, to the psychiatric ward.

He has a roommate. He reminds Evan of Connor. He misses Connor. His name is Jack, and he has lines like Evan’s up and down his arms. Like Connor’s. They don’t talk much. Evan doesn’t talk much.

He died.

So why is he still here?

The food on his plate is not appealing. It never is. Never was.

The people are loud, and they don’t acknowledge Evan at all. Figures. He keeps his head down and doesn’t learn any names.

His mom calls every night, but Evan doesn’t know why. He never talks to her, just sits, eyes empty. He doesn’t cry anymore. Sometimes he calls Connor just to hear his voicemail recording. He hasn’t picked up once. Zoe called once, asking how he was, and if he knew when he was getting out. He said two words. “Fine,” and “No.”

He waits for Jared to call. It doesn’t happen. Jared hates him. He was being oversensitive and couldn’t handle a fucking joke and now Jared doesn’t want anything to do with him, though, that makes sense, Evan doesn’t want anything to do with Evan, and so he can’t blame Jared for feeling the same way-

Everything is falling apart.

_He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm-_

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

_What’s wrong with you-_

_Left behind, just like always-_

It feels wrong, taking bites. Chewing. Swallowing. And then not trying to vomit it back up. Sometimes he feels nauseous for no reason, bile rising in his throat, tears blurring his vision. He knows he has to eat, but he doesn’t really care.

He hates it here.

They wanted to send him to a long term place, but his mom’s shitty insurance wouldn’t cover it. He’s glad. He didn’t want to go.

The days tick by, slowly, and suddenly it’s over. Thirty five days. It feels too fast. It’s wrong. He liked it in the hospital. He didn’t have to worry about anything, like living in a bubble of calm, he didn’t have to worry about his weight or what others thought.

It was safe.

His mom helps him carry his things to the car.

The drive home is tense. His hands shake. They don’t talk. Every time he looks at her, he feels worse. Her hands are tight on the wheel. Her left foot is tapping. Her eyes stay straight ahead, as if she’s afraid to look at him. He would be.

When they get home, his door is gone, just like Connor’s, He remembers from that dinner, what was it now, two months ago? He doesn’t bother checking the bathroom for his blade. He sits on his bed and stares at the floor.

“I wish I could help, baby.” Heidi’s in the doorway.

“I know.”

“I just want you to be happy.” She sits next to Evan, rubbing his back. He leans into her.

“I know.”

He’s starting school again. His mom watches him eat, and waits thirty minutes to start driving him to school. He knows he’s gaining weight, on his hips, thighs, and arms. The scars all over are stretching, making them seem worse than they were. He wants them to go away. 

He missed Halloween. 

He says goodbye to his mom, and walks down the halls. Everyone acts like he was never gone. To them, he wasn’t. They don’t know him. He doesn’t matter.

Evan’s hands shake as he tries to twist his lock. “Here,” says a familiar voice. Evan stops, then lets Jared unlock it for him.

“T-thanks.” He steps forward to get his things.

“No problemo. It’s… It’s good to see you, man.” Was he? Nervous?

“Yeah.” Evan fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“Everyone missed you. I mean, um, Connor and Zoe and ‘Lana. And, well. Me.” 

Evan smiled a bit, willing himself to look at Jared. “I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m sorry I was such an ass for so long. I thought- well I thought you knew. But I look back and that’s not an excuse. So. Yeah.”

“Thanks. It doesn’t matter now. It was, it was in the past, you know? It’s ok.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.” They laughed a little bit.

The bell rang, and Evan hiked up his backpack to head to class.

“Wait! Um. Ask your mom if you can come to my place after school? We planned a welcome back party.” Jared smiled.

Evan flushed. “Sure.”

They headed to class, and Evan texted Heidi. She was delighted, and her only rule was home by ten.

Evan was called to the counselor’s office in the middle of third.Mr. Ryans giving him a pass with “Mark Hansen” on it. 

The lady behind the desk gave him the vibes of a grandma, which, somehow, makes him anxious. He wouldn’t want to meet his grandma, because well, his mom’s mom is dead and he doesn’t even want to think about his dad’s mom, who, even though when he turned sixteen sent him $100, that’s not a way to make your grandson who you never met like you. Plus she always sounded super rude when his mom talked about her and, why is he judging a woman he just met based of two people he’s never fucking met. 

He’s dizzy. 

The doctor said that would happen, and he just needed a bit of sugar to raise his blood pressure, but sugar was on No Thanks list and he’s always just sat down-

Her fingers were wrapped around his arm, guiding him to a chair.

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm-_

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_It’s like he doesn’t exist-_

_He doesn’t want to be here-_

_What’s wrong with you-_

_Left behind, just like always-_

Something is pressed into his hand. “Here.” It’s apple juice. He looks up and sees the counselor. “You’re supposed to drink it?” She smiles warmly at him, and he tries and fails to return it. 

His hands shake as he sticks the straw in the little hole.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get to introduce myself. I’m Ms. Davis.” Evan looks at her, her skin a deep warm color, and her hair straightened with gray streaks near her temples. “You’re Evan Hansen.”

“Y-yeah.” He takes a tiny sip of juice and waits for her to continue.

“I just wanted to tell you that we got a call from Dr. Sherman? Your counselor?,” she confirms, and he nods, “Requesting that you eat lunch in the counseling office for a bit, just out there, and that starts today.”

Evan’s stomach turns.

“Ok.” He takes another sip.

“That’s it? I thought you’d fight.” She smiles and Evan’s feels vaguely like she’s teasing.

“I- um. Can-” He stops, picking at his fingers.

“Yes, you can go. I’m sorry this was so awkward. I’d like to get to know you better. I’ll see you at lunch.” She stands and opens the door for him. 

He leaves. 

The day is gone too soon. He goes and sits in the counselor’s waiting room, the secretary giving him during lunch, but still only takes a few bites.

At the end of the day Evan waits by his locker, knowing Jared will come eventually. 

He’s staring at his shoes. 

“Evan!” He looks up, and can’t stop the little smile on his lips. 

“Zoe.” 

She steps up close to him. “Can I?” She gestures awkwardly, and he nods. Her arms wrap tight around. He hesitates but returns the gesture. 

He looks up. Connor is standing there. His hair is longer, though not back to normal, and his eyes are fixed on Evan’s. Evan looks away first.

Zoe lets go of him and holds him at arm's length. He can tell she’s inspecting him. Judging him. He knows he’s gained weight, and it shows. 

He wonders if her fingers still fit all the way around his arm…

His breath hitches.

_Her fingers fit all the way around his arm-_

_He hears a branch snapping, or maybe his arm-_

_Blood on the linoleum tiles-_

_Cheerios and milk-_

_The smell of vomit and pills-_

_Sobbing, heavy and wet-_

_Red and blue lights-_

It’s gone. The moment passes. He’s fine. No one noticed.

“It’s good to see you.” Zoe smiles and it takes a moment for Evan to realize she’s talking to him. He’s been gone. She hasn’t seen him in a while. It’s good to see him. 

No it’s not.

“We’re going to go over to Jared’s. Alana’s going to meet us there. Your mom said yes, right?” Zoe’s got this energy about her, she’s happy.

“Yeah.” He looks down at his feet.

They talk about who’s going home with who, and Evan follows Jared to his car. It’s green, but he’s not sure of the model. Jared has probably told him before.

The drive is quiet. Something’s changed in their dynamic. Evan wants to go back, when they were kids and everything was fine.

They’re there.

The world is spinning but everything’s fine.

When did they go inside?

People are talking. He’s talking, Jared’s mom’s barely saying, “Hi”, and they’re in the basement.

“Hey.” There’s a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

He looks up.

It’s Connor.

_Connor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment! I love them!!
> 
> Be safe!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She turns and wraps her arms around him, and he returns it. “I don’t- I don’t deserve him,” She sobs. 
> 
> Connor is quiet, rubbing her back. Then, “I don’t think any of us do.”
> 
> She just cries harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this is anymore. I'm back! Sorry it took me forever, I've been busy for a while, and not have had access to the internet!  
> Take care!

Connor stands in the doorway of Evan’s hospital room. He’s asleep, thin, and for a long moment, Connor’s sure he’s still dead. But something beeps in time with his heart, and his chest rises and falls, even if it’s aided by a machine.

He died.

Evan  _ died. _

“You’re allowed to come in.” He jumps, and finds Heidi Hansen, in a nurse’s uniform, even though he knows she’s off shift, sitting against the wall. 

“I know.” Connor says, his voice soft. 

She beckons, and he slowly enters, joining her in the hard plastic chairs provided. “He loved trucks when he was a kid.”

Connor looks at her. 

“He played baseball for the Tee Ball Tigers, but hated it. He wouldn’t sleep without a nightlight until he was ten.”

He realizes she’s crying, and tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands. “Me too.” 

“What?” She wipes her eyes and tries to focus on him.

He swallows, then puts an arm around her shoulder. It’s incredibly awkward for a moment, then he says, “I had a nightlight too. I still use it sometimes.”

She turns and wraps her arms around him, and he returns it. “I don’t- I don’t deserve him,” She sobs. 

Connor is quiet, rubbing her back. Then, “I don’t think any of us do.”

She just cries harder.

He’s been sitting with his finger over ‘dial,’ for the past thirty minutes. Miguel didn’t have a contact photo, in case his parents went through his phone, but Connor didn’t need one to imagine his face. The firm jaw, soft cheeks, eyes of honey.

He’d already ruined everything they had, but he couldn’t let it sit. He wanted to apologize. He wanted it all back.

He presses the button.

It rings nine and a half times before Miguel picks up. “What do you want?”

Connor tries not to cry, he’s better than that,  _ he’s better than that- _

“I’m sorry.” He manages, choking on nothing.

“Connor? Is something wrong?” The hostility dropped from his voice and it made him sob again.

“It’s Evan- Shit. My- My friend. I-“ He’s cut off.

“Connor, we never said we were a thing. If you- if you want him to be your boyfriend, we can still be friends?” Miguel sounds hopeful, as if he wants to be friends. Why would he want to be friends?

“I- Yeah. I’d- I’d like that.” He laughs a little bit, the threat of Miguel leaving, gone.

“Me too.”

Connor clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m a horrible person, I know and I’m working on it.”

“You’re not horrible.” Connor can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m still sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“I called Evan.” Connor looks up from his book, Zoe standing in the middle of his room. He hadn’t heard her entering.

“Oh.” Connor pretends to start reading his book, but his eyes can’t focus. Zoe called Evan. He looks back up. “How… How is he?”

She sits on the end of his bed. “He was quiet. He said he was “fine,” and doesn’t know when they’re discharging him, and I asked him about a roommate, but I don’t know if he said anything that time.” Connor suddenly feels guilty that she knows all about hospitals, the roommates, discharge-

She shouldn’t need to know about that. She shouldn’t need to have a personal key to a lock box in the kitchen. She shouldn’t need to try and glance at his wrists occasionally, just to make sure.

“Oh.” He picks at his fingers, then stops. That was something Evan did. “I love him, you know?”

“Yeah.” She scoots closer, “Alana has a lot of anxiety. She feels like she needs to be in control. She doesn’t often let other people know what’s going on, but I’m lucky enough to be one of those people. Things happen, and we have fights. Remember when we broke up, for, like, a day? I decided it was dumb, and apologized. There are things wrong with her, and there are things wrong with me.”

She looks down at her lap, palms up. Connor can see the soft belly of her hand, the callouses from guitar, some he knows she gets from the swings. Her wrists are white and smooth. The only lines are from her veins, pale and blue underneath her skin.

“I’m never good enough. I’m never perfect. I never do anything wrong, but I never do anything right. I- I blame my shit on other people because I can’t handle the fact that I’m fucked up too.” She laughs a little and Connor realizes she’s crying too. “But she loves me. I love her.”

“I love you.”

“What?” Zoe looked at him, her eyes wet.

“I love you. I’ve been a jerk, and I’m sorry, and I love you.” He takes one of her hands and squeezes it.

She squeezes back. “I love you too.”

Something breaks. He knows he’s still holding her hand, but all he can feel are pin and needles. Why does she love him? She shouldn’t. He’s a dick. A bully. A monster. Selfish. Horrible. Broken.

“You don’t have to.” His voice is soft, childish, and he hates it.

Zoe doesn’t protest, but wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I know.”

Alana’s club isn’t going so well. People are coming, Zoe makes him come every week. It kinda feels like a hang out group, because at this point, it’s only Zoe, ‘Lana, for some reason, Jared, and himself.

Alana’s really bummed, but she’s got her sights on a new project, the Halloween dance, something that Connor’s been sucked into.

The night of, she’s got him hanging things, because, “You’re the tallest, and that’s safest. If you fall off the ladder, you’ll be that much closer to the ground.”

“I won’t fall.” He’d said, frowning at her.

“Of course you won’t!” She’d replied, and pointed towards the door, the banner neatly laid out next to the ladder. “It’s over there when you’re ready.”

There’s something off, Connor thinks as he staples the painted paper to the wall. Something wrong. Missing.

Jared and Zoe get along almost too well, and even Alana’s being sucked in. Their laughter echoes around the empty cafeteria, and Connor feels small. 

He finishes and climbs down. Zoe grabs his arm almost immediately and starts talking, her voice filled with enthusiasm. He’s not sure if he can hear her. “-right, Connor?”

He shakes her off and picks at his nail polish. “I don’t know.”

“Connor? Come on, costumes have always been our thing!” She’s so  _ different _ from him. She’s so sure, and determined, and always wants to be the best she can be. He would rather be dead.

Something catches in his throat and he turns, heading toward the exit. “It  _ was  _ our thing.”

The silence that follows is suffocating, and he tries not to sob because it would be so, so  _ loud. _

“That’s only ‘cause you started flaking. Come on, we’re over this, what’s wrong?” Zoe calls out, and he can hear the frustration in her voice. He did that. He does that.

“Nothing!” He’s shouting, and he doesn’t know why. “Everything!” His voice cracks, then he’s crying and he feels awful. What happened? Nothing happened. He’s just fucked up. Ruined and broken and selfish. 

God, he’s a monster.

“Shit, Connor, slow down.” Zoe.

“What’s going on?” Jared.

“Let’s just give them space.” Alana.

Someone’s touching him and he knows,  _ he knows _ , it’s Zoe, but he hates himself and he hates her, and he’s shoving her, hard, and then he’s out, he needs out out  _ out _ .

He can’t breathe and the world is spinning and something is  _ missing _ and he’s so fucking sorry-

Someone is holding him, “I know you are. I know.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I know.”

Connor spends Halloween handing out the giant candy bars because they’re fucking rich and-

“Hey! We’re watching Deadpool, you coming?” It’s Jared, surprisingly, standing in the doorway to the basement.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this!” Alana called from the kitchen. Vaguely, Connor knows she’s making popcorn, and wonders when she became comfortable enough in the kitchen to make popcorn by herself.

Connor swallowed, and looked down at the bowl in his hands. “I-”

Zoe starts down the stairs, a couple blankets in hand. “Connor, if you don’t come, I’m going to hide all your nail polish.”

“I’m- passing out the candy.” His voice fell flat and he pointed at the door lamely. 

“Leave it out, for God’s sake, on the porch.” Zoe dumped her armful of bedding at the end of the stairs and tried to take the bowl from him.

“Someone’s going to take it all.” He protests, taking a step back.

Zoe tries again, snatching it, “Good for them,” and disappears outside.

Connor lets her guide him down stairs, and sit him down on the couch. 

The movie starts and he begins to loosen up. 

Ryan Reynolds seems to fix everything, and the swearing seems to traumatize Alana, but Jared and Zoe love it.

Someone’s getting a phone call. 

“Fuck, that’s me, I’ll be right back.” Zoe steps out, but Alana pauses the movie anyway.

They don’t mean to eavesdrop, but it’s kinda easy, Zoe’s not being quiet.

“Yes?”

Connor started chewing on his lip. 

“Yeah, this is Zoe.”

Jared stood and readjusted his blanket.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that? Just- I wanna make sure-” 

Alana fidgeted with her skirt.

“Really? Connor’s going to be so happy!”

Connor froze, lip stuck between teeth.

“Thank you.” 

Who was she talking to?

“Yeah, of course. See you then.”

She stepped back into the room.

“Bye.”

She put her phone away, smiling widely. 

“What?” Connor asked, slightly sullen at hearing his name in the conversation. 

Instead of answering, she laughed and sat down. “Play the movie.”

“No, Zoe, tell me!” Connor leaned over her and grabbed the remote from Alana.

“Yeah, we wanna know!” Jared chimed in, trying not to smile.

“At the end of the movie!”

“Now, Zo.”

“Fine!” Jared cheered a little, but went silent with the rest of them. “That was Ms. Hansen-”

Jared started with Connor’s reaction.“What? Wait, that was about Evan? Is he ok? What happened? What-”

“Calm down, Jared, he’s fine. Better, actually. They wanna release him next friday!”

There was silence, then Jared stood up and cheered, and then pulled Zoe up into a hug. 

Then Zoe was hugging Connor and Alana and everyone was smiling-

But Connor could only think one thing.

Why didn’t they act like this for him? 

Jared’s basement smelled like cats and cigarettes, both of which Jared claimed were from the people who owned the house before them, though Connor had his doubts.

Connor couldn’t tell if the smell was making him anxious, or the blond boy across the room.

Evan seemed the same, maybe a little more filled out, a little less- something.

His hands still shook and he responded in mumbles. 

Connor’s stomach twisted, and he made a choice. 

“Hey,” He reaches for Evan’s arm. “Are you alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jafh  
> Please leave a comment, I love them so so much! Have a good day, be safe please!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright?” 
> 
> Connor was never this scary before, was he? Not scary in a bad way, just, making him nervous? Something in his stomach telling him this was wrong, and dumb, and Connor would never want the things he wanted, even though he didn’t know exactly what he wanted. He wanted Connor. He wanted everything to go away. He wanted to be perfect. He wanted everything to be perfect.
> 
> The hand on his arm tightens, Connor’s long, slender fingers still able to wrap all the way around- “Let’s get out of here, ok?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I feel like this sucks, but I really don't want to ditch this or end it with a crappy ending (again), so it's just sucky. Sorry.

“What?” 

Evan’s not sure all of this is real. But in an abstract way, like maybe he’s dreaming, and not that existence is fake and he’s already dead. Though, maybe that’s a road worth going down. Maybe he is dead. Maybe he died in June when he fell- jumped. Fell. He fell, didn’t he? Or maybe Connor died or- maybe he’s just insane? Locked up in some insane asylum like where they wanted to send him? 

“Are you alright?” 

Connor was never this scary before, was he? Not scary in a bad way, just, making him nervous? Something in his stomach telling him this was wrong, and dumb, and Connor would never want the things he wanted, even though he didn’t  _ know _ exactly what he wanted. He wanted Connor. He wanted everything to go away. He wanted to be perfect. He wanted everything to be perfect.

The hand on his arm tightens, Connor’s long, slender fingers still able to wrap all the way around- “Let’s get out of here, ok?”

Evan’s voice catches in his throat, but he manages, “Y-yeah. Ok.”

He lets Connor lead him back up the stairs, out the front door, and onto the front yard. “Evan?” He starts and looks down, Connor already seated on the slightly damp grass. The hand on his arm tugs him down, and Evan lets his legs buckle to the earth.

Everything is a little bit hazy. Maybe it’s not real.

“Evan? Are you alright?” Connor is looking at him expectantly.

Evan looks away. “Yeah.”

“No, you’re not.” His brow is furrowed with worry.

“Then why did you ask?!” Evan hates the way his voice breaks, emotion bubbling up.

“Evan, I want to know what’s wrong. I want to help.” Evan isn’t looking at him but he can imagine the worry, the guilt, fear.��

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok. Then we won’t.” Evan looks up, Connor looks away, then back. His hair brushes his jawline and Evan wants to- “What do you want to do?”

His voice catches in his throat. The hair on his neck and arms rise.

They’re awfully close together, Evan can smell his lavender laundry detergent. His eyes flick down to Connor’s lips. They’re rough and dry, chewed on, pink.

Evan looks back up. Connor shifts closer, the hand, still on his arm, moving up to his neck. Evan can practically feel his heart stop. “Is this ok?” Connor asks, his voice a little more dry than normal. 

He nods, trying to breath evenly. It’s hard because Connor’s eyes aren’t actually blue. Well, one of them is. But his left eye is split by brown and it’s so imperfect, and endearing, and Connor’s nose has that little raise in the bridge and Evan loves that look. It’s so real and Connor and-

Connor’s lips are soft, and thin, rough as they press to Evan’s. A hand at the base of Evan’s spine urges him forward, and they break a part for a second, Connor’s forehead to his while they shuffle Evan into Connor’s lap. 

Then it’s back, and Connor nips at his lip and Evan tries not to let his hips press into Connor’s, not let Connor feel something against his thigh- But then Connor’s lips are away from his, pressing down his jaw, just below his ear, and Evan’s breath hitches and he can’t hold himself up any longer.

His face burns as Connor rubs his back, lips back together, a slight press of tongue, letting Connor in-

“Oh my God! Connor!” Zoe’s shrill voice makes them both jump, Evan scrambling off Connor.

Now Connor’s face is burning too. “Zoe! What the fuck!”

“What!? If you’re making out in the front yard of your friends house, you should expect to get caught! I’m just surprised the neighbors didn’t yell at you.” Zoe raises her hands in the air, stepping aside for Jared, who whistles, and Alana who blushes almost as bad as Evan.

“Oh, God, guys, get a room!” Jared pretends to block Alana’s eyes. 

“Stop it, Jared. I’m dating Zo, I think I’ve seen enough-” She shoves him, but Zoe cuts her off.

Zoe wraps her arm around Alana’s waist and stage-whispers to Alana. “Well, you haven’t seen it all.” 

“Zoe!” Alana blushes darker and ducks her head.

They laugh, and Evan laughs too. He feels light and when Connor helps him up he’s giggling.

They go back inside and sit on Jared’s gross basement couch, and Connor snags a blanket from somewhere and Evan’s knees are over Connor’s.

Jared and Zoe want to watch Carrie, but Up, with Connor, Evan, and Alana wins.

Suddenly Connor starts laughing. 

“What is it?” Jared whines.

Connor looks over at Zoe and tries to talk, “Zo, do you remember, when we were little, and we watched Up for the first time and-”

“Oh my God! Oh my  _ God, _ Connor, that was like, a million years ago!” Zoe snorts and covers her face.

“And you thought that Kevin ate the old man’s wife!” Evan starts laughing too.

“That’s so dumb, Zoe, oh my God.” Jared throws popcorn at her.

“I was, like, six!” She threw up her hands in defeat. “This is so dumb. Can we please just watch the movie?”

Connor smirked but shut up.

The movie started, but Evan was having trouble focusing on the screen.

Connor was warm, and had a hand pressed to Evan’s icy skin.

He could feel it. The pads of his fingers rough, like maybe Zoe had tried, at some point, to teach him a stringed instrument. It almost tickled.

He switched his gaze to Connor’s neck and cheek. Freckles lightly decorate his skin. 

Evan feels hot now, too. Maybe he has a fever? Maybe this is all a delusion. Nothing could ever be this perfect.

But he can feel Connor breathing, and see him smiling and frowning as the movie gets going, as Carl breaks his arm, (which Evan notices because his own arm had been in a cast for a while, and usually bothers him when he thinks about it, but it can’t, nothing can, not right now) and when they get married.

Then Connor notices him. 

“Whatcha lookin at?” He asks, voice quiet to avoid being heard. Evan’s face turns scarlet.

“I- I-” He starts to stammer out an excuse, but Connor shushes him.

Connor shifts him, tugging him in front of him and putting his head on Evan’s shoulder. “Watch the movie.” He whispers, wrapping his arms around Evan’s waist.

He tries. He really, really does! But Connor’s breath is in his ear, and his hair is tickling his cheek, and there’s nothing to worry about, because it’s just them and it’s just. It’s nice.

Evan lets his eyes close, and they open to the sound of Connor and Zoe talking. 

“I’m texting his mom, give me a second.” Zoe.

“Ok, but you know I could just ring the doorbell, right?” Connor.

“Yeah, but you’re not going to, now are you?”

“But I could.”

He was in a car, slumped against someone.

A door opened and closed and then cold, night air hit his face. He sat up, someone pulling him out of the car. “Hi, baby.” His mom.

Evan blinked, trying to get his eyes to work.

“Goodnight, Evan.”

“Bye, Ev.” He watched as Connor got out of the backseat and into the front.

“Good night.” His voice was gravely, and he cleared it, “Good night.”

He let his mom lead him inside.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked, closing and locking the door.

Yawning he nodded. Then the day’s events hit him. His face turns red, imagining Connor, his eyes, his hair, his  _ lips _ -

Evan doesn’t really feel tired anymore, standing in the hall, with Connor on his mind. His mom puts a hand on his shoulder and starts leading him upstairs, “Let’s get you to bed, ok? The Murphy’s said you were out like a light.” 

Out like a light, slumped against Connor, his arms around his waist. “Yeah. Ok.”

Evan slipped into his room, his stomach flip-flopping, though, he thought it was good, rather than bad, and without the urge to go hide in a dark hole. Well, that still sounded nice, but maybe- maybe Connor could come with?

A smile broke out on his face and he sat down on his bed, searching for his phone in his sweater’s pockets. He pulled it out and stopped. The newest notification was a text from Zoe.

**Zoe:**

**7:43 PM**

I’m so glad you’re back, Hansen. I missed you, we all did. Connor especially.

**7:48 PM**

BTW you guys are just so cute

Attached was a badly back lit photo of him and Connor. Evan was asleep (ah, that’s what happened), slumped against Connor, who had his arms wrapped around Evan’s waist and chin on his shoulder. 

Evan smiled, his chest filling, tightening, but not with anxiety. It was something else, something that made him want to jump up and down and squeal, just because.

He set the photo as his home screen and got ready for bed.

Laying in bed, he couldn’t sleep, not with his thoughts racing, not thinking about blue and brown, or warm hands on his skin, or lips against his- Nope, sleep was not something he was capable of, now, or, maybe, ever again, because  _ Connor  _ kissed him, Connor  _ kissed  _ him, Connor kissed  _ him _ , and maybe he was going to die, but not in the way were he’s taking pills and trying to his a vein, or letting go of the branch, no, more like Connor Murphy kissed him and now he was freaking out and going to die, and-

Evan dreamed of a wide, open field, smiling and laughing, holding a hand, climbing a tree, talking and talking and leaning against someone, but then they were gone, and his mouth tasted like benadryl, and the branch under him was creaking, and even though he was calling out, screaming, for someone to save him, no one came, no one came to get him, so he fell, and his stomach was in his throat and he was falling and falling, faster and faster and he was just waiting to hit the ground, because he could feel it, getting closer and closer, and he was falling faster and faster-

Closer-

Faster-

And then something cracked, and broke. 

He cracked, and broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment? They're probably my favorite thing about this.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fdsfdsa

Hey, y'all! So here's the thing. I really like writing this, I love DEH and I love the world I created, but I've honestly lost motivation. I don't know what to do with it because I don't really have a plot??? I've been writing this in bursts of motivation or the need to vent, and I really like this, but it's not going anywhere. 

I might try to start writing this but better? with more plot and less me, if that makes sense, but I'm going to be discontinuing it for now. I don't really know how I feel just dumping it because it's always super sad when you come across those while reading, so I guys I'm telling the people who've been continuously reading this for a while.

Thanks for all the love!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> don't hate me ;^;


End file.
